lauraashley93

[lauraashley93]

Secrets and Lies: Chapter 12 - Absolution

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 5,280

Summary: “I can’t change what I did and truly all I want is your forgiveness. Not absolution–or–or salvation… Just… forgiveness.”

Series Rating: Explicit/18+ TW: Rape/Non-con

Previous chapters:  One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Sevenandahalf Eight Nine Ten Eleven

A/N: I hope you all like this chapter and if my story makes you feel something, reblogs, comments, asks, etc are always welcome <3 Alsooo don't worry. This is not the end. I felt like this seemed like an ending so I wanted to be clear. I feel like I've been giving y'all blue balls so don't worry, we're gonna get our smut on real soon, folks! ;) Most likely the next part will also wrap everything up and will be the last part but I'm already working on a new sam x reader fic that takes place at the beginning of s.10 but is a continuation of the same relationship that is present in all my fics.

Tag list: @lauraashley93 @stoneyggirl2 @tiggytaylor @park-simphwa @dottirose

When you first woke sometime later, you continued to drift in and out of consciousness for what seemed like hours. You were faintly aware of Sam’s presence on the other side of you–your feet tangled with his legs as he curved around you. But the meds Dean gave you were strong and continued to pull you back down into unconsciousness. 

In the hazy moments of awareness, you could hear Sam and Dean talking quietly to each other. Their voices lulled you back into a comforted sleep. Another moment, despite your back to him, you could feel Sam sitting back against the headboard, reading. Each rustle of the pages turning was a quiet thrill that made you smile unconsciously in your sleep, even more so when he began using his free hand to casually caress figure eights onto your back.

Sometime after that, you found Sam alongside you, over the blankets but still snuggled against you, his flanneled arm draped over you. He’d laced fingers with yours and held your hand over your heart. You felt him nuzzle his nose into your hair and inhale deeply before gently pressing his lips to the crown of your head. This, combined with the sun shining in from the window by the door and your desperate thirst, was enough to finally push you fully into consciousness. 

The ice bag rested heavily on top of your cheek and was as cold as ever. Dean must have made a fresh one. 

You whined softly as you stretched your legs and let out a yawn. Instinctively, you moved your arms and Sam withdrew his, allowing you to stretch them out in front of you, noticing with each shift the aches in parts of you that you didn’t even know could ache. Your lungs felt bruised, somehow, from the strain the shifter had put on them in its attempt to suffocate you. The large bruises on the back of your arms, your waist, and your thighs where it had coiled itself tightly around you pulsed out painful reminders.

You turned over, taking the ice bag with you, and nestled it between your cheek and the pillow. Each movement brought on more frustration, stirring you further from your sleep as you wrestled with your appendages in a vain attempt to settle into a position that didn’t hurt.. Grasping the top sheet in your fingers, you pulled your hands together and rested them beneath your chin.

You blinked slowly as your eyes adjusted to the light.

Sam was right there, watching you. His face lit up as your eyes settled on his. His shaggy, brown hair was tucked behind his ears and he was dressed in jeans and an old grey and blue flannel. You took stock of the bandages on his neck and cheek and chin and wondered how many more there were that you couldn’t see.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey,” you croaked. A beat passed before you painfully cleared your throat and asked, “When was the last time you laid in bed this late?” 

Sam smirked as he thought about it for a moment. “Laid in bed with you, like this? At three in the afternoon? Hmm…,” his eyes narrowed on you as he thought. “Probably a few months… Was it New Year's Day? … Certainly not often enough.”

Your heart raced and you took as deep a breath as you could manage. Sam wouldn’t be talking to you like this if he hadn’t decided to stay, right?

“New resolution: stay in bed more,” you rasped with a careful smile before a tiny cough caught in your throat and you pulled the sheet over your mouth as you let it out.

“I can get on board with that,” Sam said grinning broadly as he climbed off the bed and made his way around. He grabbed the full cup from the nightstand as you carefully pulled yourself back to rest against the headboard. A groan or a hiss escaped your lips with each painful movement. Sam leaned over you, careful not to spill the water, and adjusted the pillow behind your back before moving the ice bag to the nightstand. He crouched down and handed you the cup which you drank down in seconds, stopping once to cover a painful cough. 

Sam’s brow furrowed as he tried to force his concerned frown into a smile. He grabbed Dean’s steel water container and refilled your cup as you held it out for him. Once he was sure you weren’t going to chug the second cup as well, he joined you back on the bed. This time he sat with his legs crossed under him and faced you. 

You glanced around the room. “Dean?”

“Supply run,” Sam said. You nodded before taking a sip of water. He watched you for several long moments before looking away, as if steeling his nerves. He took a deep breath and when he turned back you saw that his eyes were glistening again, like last night, and you were back in that old place, the place where your heart ached and begged to stop all of his pain and guilt and regret and longed to remind him how worthy and caring and honorable he was and how all the bullshit he’d endured wasn’t on him...

You took another sip and closed that door in your mind. You weren’t sure Sam still wanted you to take care of him in that way and until you were, that wasn’t a weight you could take on… not right now.

“Y/n… I’m so-” 

“I’m okay, Sam,” you said, cutting him off. The corners of your lips twitched up into your best attempt at a reassuring smile. “Dean stopped it. I’m still here. You’re still here. Everything’s okay.” 

Okay, so maybe that door didn’t close so easily…

“Please, y/n, just let me say this,” he said before inhaling sharply. “I— I never should have left.” 

You shook your head at him. “Please don’t do that.”

“What?”

“We both know by now that shit just happens and all any of us can do is be there to help pick up the pieces, maybe stop it if we’re lucky. We’re not always going to be lucky,” you shrugged. “So don’t act like you should have done something–like you could have done something… because clearly, life doesn’t work that way.” 

Sam swallowed hard and looked away from you. “I never should have taken that damn case. I should have given it to Dean. I should have come straight home,” he muttered. 

“Sam,” you said before biting anxiously at your bottom lip. The thing that had been gnawing at the edge of your thoughts was finally ready to bubble out. “Look, I know this has thrown a wrench in your, uh, plans. I still mean what I said the other night–if you’re not ready to come back, don’t do it just because of–because of all this. I’ll be okay for a bit. Awhile even. If you have any doubts… about–about us–I need you to deal with them before you–if you decide to…” You stumbled over your words and took a sharp breath, ready to push past the one word you couldn’t get your mouth to utter. “if you can– if you can forgive me.” 

Sam dragged his hand down his face as the tears started to slip down his cheeks. He pinched his bottom lip anxiously like he did when research was beginning to fail him. Normally, when you caught him doing that, you’d walk up behind him and pull his hands into yours as you leaned over and pecked little kisses down the side of his face until you found his lips, and–still grasping his hand in yours–tilted his face up and pressed your lips to his, taking a long, silent moment before opening your mouth to him and slipping your tongue gently and momentarily between his lips. Your breath turned shallow from the memories and you quickly wiped away a tear as you wondered how you’d ever be able to keep yourself from him. 

Sam stared up at the ceiling a moment before looking back and studying you for a long moment. His brows knit together and suddenly he leaned toward you and pulled you into his arms as he lifted you with an almost disconcerting ease. You fought through the ache in your muscles as you shifted your legs and nestled yourself around his hips before resting your chin on his shoulder and encircling him in your arms. He slowly caressed his fingers up and down your back.

“Sam…,” you said softly against his ear, your chin pushing into his shoulder as you spoke. 

“You know… when I was out in the woods, setting up my tent, hiking the trails, just trying to clear my mind–that plan completely backfired. All I could think about was you. I watched the creeks flowing, saw little pools of minnows and frogs and swimming ducks and I thought of you and how much you’d love it. I saw an owl up high in a tree and I wished I could show you. I watched the sunset and I wished you were there holding my hand, telling me what the colors reminded you of. I stared up at the stars and I swear I saw your face. The moon was a beautiful, clear, perfect crescent–just like you always love to point out to me when you see it. You were everywhere. It was so much that I almost prayed to Cass, sure that he was doing this to me on purpose. But I knew better. It wasn’t Cass or any other magic. It was just… you. My love for you.” 

Your heart caught in your throat and tears streamed down your cheeks as he spoke. You pulled your chin down to the fabric above his clavicle and pressed a kiss into him as you shifted your grip on your forearm, squeezing him tighter as your tears dripped onto Sam’s back. 

“I couldn’t sleep. I debated calling you–debated if I should just pack up and drive back home to you. Then I got news from a hunter about a case close to home and decided I could wrap it up quick and be home in a couple of days and that way you’d still get your space–in case you needed it now–after–after the way I’d treated you that night.” 

“Sam,” you said, whispering his name again. That wasn’t your favorite memory but you didn’t want it to be something he berated himself for forever.

“I know, just let me finish. I need to say this.” 

You loosened your embrace on him and trailed your fingers up his neck, unintentionally eliciting a soft gasp from him at your touch. Your fingers found your target as you brushed them–opened and closed–around his crown, gliding slowly through his hair. His chest, pressed to you, fell and rose shallower now. 

“Oh my god… you're making this… more difficult than I imagined,” he said, his voice strained.  

“Sorry,” you said, the small smile evident in your tone. “It’s just… this last week has been incredibly–excessively–unbearably shitty and I needed you so bad–not needed you, needed you–just–you know–needed you. Dean did his best–the best friend I could ever ask for–but when you hold me–I feel… healed… salvageable… I’m not-”

“Shh…,” Sam soothed you as he gripped your shoulders and pulled you away from him so that he could look into your eyes. “I’m here and I got you and I’m not going anywhere. Now, listen to me. Of course I forgive you, okay? I forgive you a million times over. Tell me you’d make the same choice again and again and I’ll say, ‘Yes, do it’. Tell me you need to wipe my mind again right now and I’ll say, ‘Please’ without giving it another thought. If you made a call then it was the right one. Full stop. I know you, and you know me,” he said, squeezing your shoulders before letting go and cupping either side of your face in his wide palms, ensuring you couldn’t look away from him as he spoke but careful to avoid the laceration on your cheek.

“It took me a little bit to sort through the memories of that night after Cass gave them back to me. At first all I could see was you–bloody, screaming in agony as I lifted you–I woke up hearing that scream in my nightmares, y/n… but then, there it was, a thought that prickled at the back of my mind as I held you so still that my arms were cramping–you didn’t deserve this life and Dean and I were monsters for pulling you into it–for keeping you in it. This is why we don’t do attachments in this life. It’s not safe. And loving me was going to be the death of you.” 

You shook your head and he let go of you, dropping his hands to find yours, weaving each finger with his.

“You were right, y/n,” he said. “Don’t you see? You were right.” 

“No, Sam,” you said, still shaking your head. “Don’t do that. I was wrong, okay? My choices were wrong. I can’t change what I did and truly all I want is your forgiveness. Not absolution–or–or salvation… Just… forgiveness.

Sam closed his eyes and was silent for several long seconds as your words washed over him. Finally, he whispered, “I love you,” and leaned forward to press his lips chastely against yours before he pulled back just enough for his heavy breath to warm your skin. “Is this okay?” he asked. 

You paused, surprised at yourself for not immediately responding, ‘yes’. And realized you were not sure what to make of it, of him. And his beautiful words were too much. It was all overwhelming.

“Y/n?”

“I’m so sorry,” you said as you dropped your head into your hands and squeezed your eyes shut. Fresh tears dripped into your palms as you quietly sobbed.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me–I know you’re Sam. You are Sam. You are my Sam. And I adore you, too. You know that, right?” you asked. “I can’t find all the words right now to convey it the way you did. I’m so–it’s just been a–a shitty fucking week,” you said as you lifted your red, blotchy face up to look at him and took in several slow, deep breaths. 

Sam’s eyes widened with concern and you saw his chest rise and fall rapidly with panicked breaths. “I do–I do know that,” he said as fresh tears misted his eyes. You could see he wanted to comfort you, to hold you, but he wasn’t sure anymore if that was right, so he pulled himself away. 

Your tears came harder then and you gripped the comforter into a ball. You were furious, you wanted to scream out in anguish. You wanted to stop. fucking. crying. But you couldn’t. It all just spilled out and all you wanted was for Sam to wrap you in a hug and hold you and kiss your forehead and stroke your back, but there was another part of you that wanted him to stay away from you–to leave you the fuck alone. 

You felt like you were being torn in two and it was an emotional agony that paled in comparison to what you felt the night you and Sam fought or even the misery of the days after. You stood and fumbled around your boots and clothing, looking for your phone. Sam’s voice sounded like it was being carried over a pool of water that sat above you as he called your name. You ignored him. You found your phone on the nightstand, no doubt plugged in and charged thanks to the ever thoughtful Sam, and made your way to the bathroom where you shut the door behind you, too scared to look back at him. It broke your heart to imagine his expression upon hearing the soft click of the lock but you did it all the same.

You turned the cold knob on the sink and tried to focus on the sound of the rushing water as you cupped your hands under the stream and watched the water rush across your skin in airy streams. It was cool and calming and you splashed several handfuls over your face before patting it dry with the hand towel, careful of your cut. 

You unlocked your phone and called Dean. 

“Y/n?” Dean asked as he answered the phone before the first ring had even finished.

“Dean?” 

“You good?”

“I, uh–yeah, I’m good,” you lied. 

Dean could hear the congestion in your voice and knew you’d been crying. 

In an instant his tone turned gravelly and flat. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just, um, I know it’s Sam but–I don’t know why but I suddenly wasn’t so sure–but that doesn’t make sense because I do know–I do know that’s Sam,” you choked back your tears and swallowed hard. “He–I just…,” you trailed off. There was a silence between you for a moment.

“Y/n, the shifter’s dead, okay? I killed it. And I just got the other one into the trunk so we can burn it, too. I’ll be there in ten but in the meantime, I’m sure Sam won’t mind if you have to test him again to be sure, okay, kiddo?” 

You nodded to yourself. “Okay,” you whispered before sniffing and wiping your nose with the back of your hand. 

“Deep breaths,” Dean reminded you. 

You took a deep breath and winced at the sharp pain in your lungs as you inhaled.

“Sorry,” you said as a guilty tear spilled down your cheek.

“Don’t be. I’ll stay on the phone with you ‘til I’m back,” he said.

You took another deep breath and counted to five before letting it out and counted to five again as you exhaled, ignoring the pain. 

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay, Dean,” you said as you hung up the phone before he could counter you.

You glanced in the mirror for the first time since you weren’t even sure when. Your hair was a crazy, tangled mess and your face was stamped with a bright splotch of red across your cheek, an almost perfect handprint. The two butterfly closures held the broken skin together. There was a big, dark bruise forming beneath your eye, above the cut. The shifter really had hit you as hard as it could, which was saying something for a monster. You quickly brushed through your hair with your fingers and pulled it into a manageable but loose bun. You turned to face the door and shut your eyes as you gently shook your whole self, before slowly opening the door. Sam sat at the edge of the bed, waiting quietly as he fidgeted with his fingers.

“You scared me,” he murmured as he looked up at you.

“Sorry,” you said as you hesitated in the doorway. “I know you’re not…,” you trailed off and took a slow step toward him.  “Your whole being–your whole presence is the opposite of it so I know you’re not–but for a second a part of me was there again and–well, without Dean here–I’m sorry. Not that you–” you said, fumbling over your words before Sam cut you off.

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Sam said. “I know exactly what it’s like to have no idea what’s real and what’s in your head.”

Of course Sam would know; he’d told you vague stories of the torture he’d endured in the cage before you’d met him. The other pieces Dean filled in, about his visions of Lucifer taunting him, and the scar on his palm that reminded him he was safe. When Sam was having a really bad day you’d sometimes gently trace a finger across that scar to remind him of that fact. And on even worse days, when you had a moment alone, you’d peck small kisses to it.

He held his hand out and waited for you to take it as you approached him. When you did, he pulled you to him and wrapped his arms around your hips as he nestled his face into your waist. You twisted your fingers in his hair as he sighed a ragged breath into you. You stood there just like that, silent, as Sam breathed in and out, comforted by your fingers tracing up and down his scalp and twisting idly in his hair. 

“Will it help if you tell me about it?” he asked after a minute. 

You considered the idea. “Maybe–later though, or tomorrow–not yet–and besides, Dean’s gonna be back soon,” you said. He looked up at you. Those big, pitiful–beautiful eyes that you’d walk across shattered glass and hot coals to see just one more time. You didn’t need to cut his arm to know he wasn’t a shifter. This was all Sam. You disentangled a hand from his hair and lightly prodded at his left arm causing him to release you. You slid your fingers down the length of his arm as he bent it up to you. When you reached his wrist you gently grasped it in your palm and pulled it up to your lips so you could press a kiss to his scarred palm. 

“I love you,” you murmured as you released his wrist. He glided his palm across your jaw and cupped it as he rose to his feet. Your other arm slid down and you slipped it under the back of his shirt to hold him just above his hip, urging him to stay close.

“Love you,” he whispered back. He held fastly, now, to either side of your face as he ducked down and pressed his lips to yours. You released his hip and lifted your hands, resting them over his as he held you, ensuring he didn’t release you before you were ready. You opened your lips to him and he hesitated for the briefest second before deepening the kiss and slipped his tongue momentarily along yours. You could feel the electricity buzzing between you as he started to pull back. You leaned forward and captured his lips with yours. 

“More,” you murmured against his mouth. Obedient as always, Sam kissed you back, hungrily now, like he needed your lips on his to sustain himself. He angled your face up and deepened the kiss with his tongue. Gently, he sucked your bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it and going back to your lips for more. You sighed into him as you released his hands. He let one trail over your neck as the other gripped your waist, pulling you closer and eliciting a low gasp from your lips. You cupped the side of his face with one hand as you let the other one return to his hair, just behind his ear where you drew light circles with your thumb. 

“I should shower,” you said, remembering Dean was on his way.

“I’m the one that needs the cold shower,” he whispered with a smirk as you rested your hands on his chest. 

“Oh please, it takes way more than that to get you going.” 

“Don’t be so sure,” he said as he gently grasped your hand and pulled it down so that you could feel his partially stiffened cock beneath his jeans. He smiled at the blush that flushed your cheeks as he shifted sideways, turning his back to the door and walked you backwards toward the bathroom. 

“I really missed you,” he said as he pressed his lips to the juncture of your neck and jaw. 

The roar of the Impala broke the trance and you broke apart. You listened as Dean pulled the car to the door and cut the engine off. Dean entered the room in a rush, not even bothering to shut the car door behind him. He looked to you and then to Sam and arched an eyebrow. You made your way to Dean as Sam sat uncomfortably down at the edge of the bed, tugging at his jeans as he crouched.

“You good, sweetheart?”

“Something like that,” you said as you hugged him. “Thanks for–” 

“ ‘Course,” he said as he continued to study you before glancing again to Sam. “Okay, well, you two ready to put this place in the rearview after we eat a quick bite? Because I sure as shit am,” he said as he clapped his hands and rubbed his palms together. He turned and made his way back out the motel door, leaving it hanging open as he rifled through the back seat before returning with a plastic bag and a paper tray with three sweating cups of ice cold soda in one hand and a brown paper bag that smelled greasy and warm and delicious in the other. The smell awakened your appetite and your stomach rumbled in response. 

“Holy shit, I’m fucking hungry,” you said, eliciting a small chuckle from Sam. 

“Good, cause I got your favorite cheeseburger: extra mustard, extra pepper, add jalapenos,” Dean said as he kicked the door shut behind him and set the drinks down on the table. 

Your mouth watered as you took the bag from Dean and set it on the table, hungrily pulling a fistful of fries from the bag, and stuffing them in your mouth as you took a seat. You didn’t have the heart to tell him your throat may be too sore to enjoy mustard and jalapenos and you were too hungry to really care.

“Hey, those better not be my fries!” Dean shouted. You stiffened and glanced hesitantly in his direction. Sam’s lips twitched up into a small smile at you before he saw that Dean was handing him the plastic bag. 

“Oh, thanks,” he said hesitantly as he squinted at the bag. 

“Only thing around here was a wally-world so those’ll have to do,” Dean said as he made his way back to the table and sat across from you. He pulled one of the cups from the tray and took a long pull. 

You were already three bites into your burger and had dumped the fries on to the paper wrapping when Dean fished his food out of the bag. You turned and watched as Sam pulled a large shoe box from the bag and lifted one of the boots out. They were steel-toe, dark brown work boots. “They’ll definitely do,” he said as he pulled them on and fussed with the laces. To you, they looked closer to something Dean would choose for himself than what Sam normally wore but the options were surely slim.

“You gonna eat, Sammy?” Dean asked a moment later. You looked back to see Sam was still at the edge of the bed, watching you and Dean devour your meals. There was a hesitancy in his eyes that confused you and you furrowed your brows at him. He shook his head and smiled as he stood up.

“So, the bunkers good?” you asked Dean after handing Sam his burger. There were only two seats at the small dinette table so Sam sat at the foot of Dean’s bed and took a careful bite of his cheeseburger. 

“Good as it can be,” he said as he chewed a large bite. “Cass said everything was fine. Had to have been some kind of spell–a cloaking spell or an entry spell–that either the shifter already knew or got from, you know, Sam’s beautiful mind,” he said before taking another pull from his soda.

You grimaced at the thought. Sam let out a guilty huff before leaning his long body off the bed and over to the table and to take one of your fries as he kissed your cheek. 

“S’okay,” you said as he sat back down. You lifted your leg and rubbed your pointed toe along the side of his calf. A pained smile crossed his face as he looked to you.

You finished the last bite of your cheeseburger and took a giant gulp from the soda, tossed a few fries quickly in your mouth and stood up, wiping your hands off with a napkin. “Finish my fries for me, Sam,” you said. “Gonna shower real quick.” 

Sam’s palm rested on his knee and you made sure to pass him closely enough that you could graze two fingers over the back of his hand. His hand twitched reflexively from the sudden, unexpected touch. 

“Be careful of your cut,” he whispered. You smiled tenderly at him from the doorway before turning and shutting the door.

You showered–for the first time since–and it felt so good to finally, really wash the shifter off. You let the hot water relax the tension in your shoulders and neck and scrubbed gently at your scalp with the motel shampoo. You paid extra attention with the sudsy washcloth, trying to make sure you scrubbed every part of you that the shifter touched. It wasn’t enough, you could still feel it and as the memories started to enter your mind, you hurried through the rest of your shower, not comfortable to be alone with your own thoughts. 

When you were done, you put on fresh clothes you had tucked away in your go-bag. More plaid flannel, t-shirts and dark-washed jeans. The clothing was just practical for hunting, more than anything. Although, it was nice to look like you actually belonged with Sam and Dean when you went anywhere. Sometimes you would see other girls in their crop tops or chunky sweaters, baggy jeans and sneakers, floral dresses that cinched at the waist paired with platform boots–all things with even the vaguest whiff of a ‘fashion sense’ and you’d feel a pang of jealousy for yours long lost. 

You brushed gently through your wet hair and pulled it into a quick braid, easy and out of the way, the short pieces fell loose around your face. You peered out of the bathroom. Sam was packing his bag on top of his side of the bed.

He looked up when he heard the door open and turned back to smile at you. The front door hung open and you could hear Dean packing up the Impala.

“You’re so cute,” he said. You shrugged as you slung your duffel over your shoulder. 

You arched a brow at him. “I look like I went three rounds with a lawnmower,” you said with a huff of laughter as you sat at the edge of the bed to pull on your boots, dropping your bag back to the floor.

“I like when you braid your hair,” he said as he brushed one of the loose pieces back and tucked it behind your ear. 

“Cut to me–practicing a dutch braid–then–cue the montage–as I perfect the waterfall braid, the half-up half-down twist, the mermaid, the fishtail and the low plait as ‘Every Little Thing She Does is Magic’ by The Police plays,” you said with a grin as you laced your boots. 

Sam playfully rolled his eyes as he slung his bag over his shoulder before picking up yours and doing the same. 

“I can carry it,” you said, as you stood up and slipped your phone into your back pocket. 

“I know you can,” he said as he indicated for you to walk on in front of him. You shook your head before walking to the car and climbed in the backseat. Dean didn’t protest as Sam, too, climbed in back. You fell asleep, slumped against Sam’s shoulder, hands laced together over his knee as CCR crackled through the speakers.

[lauraashley93]

Love is lost on you- Bucky Barnes x Reader

Sam hummed, eyeing you as he nodded slowly, “He’s been to therapy, gone on a date with some girl apparently.”

Your heart stuttered, eyebrows shooting up as you failed to hide your expression from Sam- the shock and subsequent heartbreak present in your features. “Oh,” you spoke slowly, refusing to meet Sam’s eye, “Yeah, well, good for him.”

A/N- I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing! Please feel free to send any requests for Bucky- I have a lot of free time right now. :) 

Word count: 3,862

Read it on AO3!

“Have you seen Bucky recently?”

Your lips twisted at Sam’s question, a lump forming in your throat at the name. Whilst you loved spending time with Sam- breakfasts, jogging together, late night drinks; the topic of your relationship with the Winter Soldier remained a taboo, an unspoken topic that lingered within every etched line of your conversations. You tended to skirt around his questions, opting to forget the time in which Y/N L/N and Bucky Barnes had been the pinnacle of a dynamic duo; both inside and outside of the battlefield. Constant speculation surrounding your relationship made you popular within the public eye, even as active fugitives- the perfect, star-studded friends-to-lovers trope, the bad boy and the good girl next door. Natasha had joked about the two of you being a couple- just to appease the general public who had kept up with any of your appearances.

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[lauraashley93]

131 you have a cold ur not dying with Tig? Lol just the idea of that badass being a total baby about being sick gets me lmao

Kicking your front door closed with your foot made a loud bang which made you stop moving for a second to hear the groan that followed. While slightly smiling to yourself you went to the kitchen to set the bags down on the counter so you can fish out the medicine and water that seemed to bury itself on your journey back from the store, once you had them in your hands you made your way to the bedroom to see a lump under your blankets with little dark brown curls sticking out onto the pillow. With your returning smile you went up to gently poke the lump earning another groan.

"C'mon you, big baby, I got medicine." You say softly in case his head is pounding. The lump moves just enough so his head is more on the pillow and lowers the blanket so all you see are red poofy eyes. You smile and say in the same soft tone, "How're you feelin' babe?"

"I'm dying." He replies in his scratchy voice that earns an eye roll from you.

"You're not dying Tiggy, you have a cold." He slowly sits up so his back is resting on the wall at the head of the bed, the simple movement making him cough making you open the water bottle and hand it to him.

"This is it for me." He says after a drink before laying his head against the wall, "I never thought I'd go out like this. I thought it'd be a bullet, motorcycle crash, some girl's husband." He starts coughing again while saying "Or father."

Sighing, you open the cough syrup and hold it out to him, he drinks alcohol on a daily so those little measuring cups are of no use. "Drink."

He looks at it and grimaces before shaking his head. You sit on your knees on the edge of the bed to hold it closer to his face, "Drink it Tiggy."

Tig then pulls the blanket up to his nose, "It tastes gross."

The only response you have is to sit there while blinking rapidly at him. "D-uhhhhm excuse me?" You say while tilting your head.

"It tastes gross." He repeats.

"You drink booze like it's water."

"That's different."

"HOW??"

He sits there looking at the wall on the other side of the room, you can see the gears turning in his head and omg is that steam coming from his ears?

"I-It's not medicine..?"

Rolling your eyes you pull the blanket down and place the bottle at his lip. You feel slight sympathy when he looks up at you with the best puppy dog eyes he can muster but you shake your head and say, "It'll help you feel better Tiggy."

He goes to say something in response but you take the opportunity to pour some of the liquid into his mouth. He groans but swallows it and you sit back with a smile, proud of yourself. Closing the lid you set it on the nightstand before handing him the water bottle again to wash it down which after gets put beside the medicine. Standing beside the bed you look down at him as he grumbles that you're torturing him while moving to get comfy again, you reply to his comment by asking him if he'd like something to eat, and he looks up at you from his position laying down.

"I want cuddles."

You smile at him, he sounds like a baby, but shake your head, "I don't want to get sick."

"I want cuddles." He says a little louder.

"Tiggy, no."

His response is to quickly wrap his arm around your waist and pull you down to lay on the bed, with him immediately laying on top of you so you can't get up. You groan "TIGGYYY."

"I said, I want cuddles."

You sigh wrapping your arms around his shoulders, accepting your fate knowing that if you got up anyway he'd chase you to get what he wants and that would just end up with him having a coughing fit. You still make a comment that he's going to get you sick, his reply is just a content hum making you chuckle softly as you run your fingers through his curls. Committing to memory that the big, bad biker is a big baby when he gets sick.

»»————-　☠　————-««

About a week later, you're sitting at the bar in TM with a stuffy nose and sneezing, Tig is sitting on the stool beside you while rubbing your back looking apologetic and Gemma is handing you a box of tissues.

"I'm gonna kill you, Trager." You say while glaring at him.

He can't help but smile with his reply, "That's another way I thought I was gonna go out."

Hope you like it Anon 😊

[lauraashley93]

anyone but you : b.b

you were Bucky's pocket of sunshine, his sweet girl outside of the avengers. a slice of normality in his less-than lifestyle, but what happens when you're pulled into it in the worst way? (2.6k)

we've got ourselves a good'un today angels, and you have @imagine-all-the-fandoms for the brill idea :)

warnings - graphic descriptions of torture and wounds. (but fluffy ending)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop

“Mmh, okay. So, our options- wait stop laughing at me!” Throwing the menus in his direction, Bucky stifles the rest of his laugh by trying to play it off as a cough.

Shaking his head, Bucky picks up the menus that had been promptly thrown at him. "I'm not laughing at you doll." Bucky reasons, moving across the sofa to now kneel in front of the coffee table where you're perching opposite him looking through your phone for alternatives.

"Sure sounds like it to me." You chide, glancing up with a mischievous glint in your eyes, one Bucky can't help but get lost in, completely missing the words sounding from your lips. Clicking your fingers in front of him, Bucky snaps from the depths of his mind.

"What did you say?" Bucky asks, only elated as your grin widens into a playful smile. "Right, dinner!" Bucky slaps his hand down on his thigh before rising to his feet and dramatically clasps one hand over his eyes. "How 'bout we do the random selector, huh?"

Chuckling to yourself, you nod along before rising to your feet. "Let's do it, Barnes."

Covering your eyes as well, the pair of you reach down and clutch a menu in your grasp and open your eyes. "I got Chinese!" You announce, and Bucky grunts in disappointment as he holds up the leaflet loosely.

"I got the shitty pizza place a few blocks away." He groans, watching you cheer victoriously. "You won this time, Y/n." He rushes over to your side of the table, wrapping his arms around your waist before lifting you up, hearing you squeal before dropping the menu. "But I'll win next time, mark my words."

With your arms around his neck, Bucky dips you lowly with a smirk. "That so, Barnes?" You tease, leaning closer to his face. "We'll see." You add, closing the distance between you both with a sweet quick kiss. "Now come on, I'm starving!"

*

"Thirty minutes til we land, guys." Natasha announces from the front of the jet.

Unable to keep his knee from bouncing once the announcement was made, Bucky cannot stop his thoughts from returning to you. It had been a longer mission than anticipated with little to no contact with the outside world. He's so used to sending a text, a quick call to just hear your voice and know you're okay whether it be doing a mundane task or listening to you moan about a colleague.

That's one of the things Bucky loves about you; the normalcy of it all. You couldn't be more of a polar opposite to the former soldier, with a 9-5, a pension scheme, and health benefits included. Whereas he just gets thrown into the unknown more than he cares to admit and comes out slightly more traumatized with each mission.

Noting the nervous actions of his friend, Steve nudges Bucky's arm. "You got plans with Y/n once we get back?" Steve asks, knowing it'll help pass the remaining time until they land.

Within seconds the tension melts from Bucky's body and even Sam catches the barely there smile on the soldier's face.

"Going to this movie theatre she loves, it's kinda run down but she likes to call it 'old school.'" He quotes, picturing the first time you dragged him along to the theatre. "And well, I've got something planned for her, but I don't know." Bucky trails off, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"Well, sounds great to me, Buck." Steve comments, moving slightly closer, and lowers his head in an attempt to keep the overs from interrupting. "So, you ever gonna bring her to the compound?"

Bucky sighs deeply and Steve backs up, knowing it's useless to even pry further into it.

"It's just so good, Steve." Bucky starts, glancing around at those around him, some looking through reports and others dozing off. "I don't want her to get enveloped in this side of our life." He explains and Steve simply nods. "I love what we have, and, and I don't wanna risk ruining that."

"Understood." Steve pats Bucky's arm. "She really brings out the best in you, you know?"

"Yeah, he's been notably less grumpy since they got together." Sam comments from the other side of the jet, receiving a brief glare from Bucky. "Less grumpy, Barnes. You're no ray of sunshine yet."

The rest of the flight sped by whilst Bucky remained deep in his thoughts which mostly circled around you. He was jolted from his memories once the jet landed and they all began to disembark.

As the team began to walk through the compound, Bucky quickly got his phone out to send you a message. But before he could even start to type one, a series of urgent texts flash up on his screen.

"Bucky?" Steve calls out to his friend who is almost frozen in place, staring down at his phone with panic written across his expression. "Buck?" Walking toward his friend, he looks down at Bucky's phone and feels his heart drop at what he's reading.

With a shaky hand, Bucky forces his head up to meet Steve's eyes. "Steve, I," He can barely form the right words, unsure what to even say. "This, this can't happen." His mind shifts to denial, but upon hearing his name being called urgently up ahead by Tony and Bruce he can feel his whole world crashing down on him.

*

The first sensation that came back was your smell. In hindsight, you wish it wasn't and that you could've remained senseless, but you weren't so lucky.

It smelt like metal, smoke, and sweat. Little did you know, that was all coming from you.

Your eyesight followed suit and quickly alerted your captures with delight that you were conscious at last. "Help!" You cry out, now noticing your arms shackled to a wall in a dank-looking cell. "Please, help me!" Within seconds the screams tear at your throat, scratching it raw as laughter enters your ears.

Through the shadows, a large figure emerges holding up an old school camcorder whilst he grimaces at you, eyes roaming over the wounds inflicted. "Bout time you woke up darling." The man snarls, moving closer into your enclosed space. "Wanna say hi to your friends?" Forcing the camera to your face, you're quick to turn your head away, only to feel a sweaty hand clench your jaw and force you to look directly into the lens as tears glisten in your eyes. "You know what to do if you want her back." The man comments, further confusing you about the situation before he reveals a small knife in his grasp.

"No, please," You plead, shaking your head at the sight of the knife rising before plowing it down into your thigh.

The last thing Bucky sees is your face contorted in pain, the movement of your lips as you scream in anguish. But all of the sounds have become white noise.

"Do we know who sent this?" Steve is the first to ask, noting Bucky standing too still for his own liking.

Raising his hand, Bruce swipes across and reveals three headshots of so-called reformed criminals. "Jason Donahough, Mark Whitehall, and Edward Polaski." Bruce points to each, pausing at the sound of Bucky's metal arm whirring, the plates sliding as he clenches both fists at the images.

"I know them." Bucky states through gritted teeth.

"A message was delivered with the video, we're trying to locate the source with the help of FRIDAY." Tony explains, revealing the two simple sentences.

Come get your girl, Winter Soldier. It's time to resume the game.

A shudder spreads through Bucky at the second sentence. They still remember what he did, and clearly aren't messing around this time.

"I have to go." Bucky tells himself, too in his own head to notice several pairs of eyes fall on him in alarm.

"Bucky, that's," Steve starts, but Bucky is already walking out the door before he can finish his sentence. "We gotta go, who's in?"

Almost every hand shoots up and Steve nods, everyone starts to file out, knowing what needs to be done.

*

They came in abruptly, knocking the chains on your ankles to alert you of their presence. Mostly they just wanted to taunt you, sometimes they'd spare you the pain of reminding you that you were alone and no one would come for you. But more often than not, they'd add to your growing list of injuries, conflicting another wound to your skin as more blood stains the tiles.

No one answers the questions you ask when conscious enough to form words. 'Where am I?' 'How long have I been here?' and the one that scares you most of all, 'Why me?'

"You think he'll come?" Your ears perk up at the question, and you force your heavy head up an inch to see two of your attackers conversing outside of your cell.

One of them is holding a phone tightly in his grasp, chewing on his lip at the question. "For her? Hopefully." He scoffs before looking back at you, noticing the corners of your lips rising weakly. "What're you smiling at, bitch?" His voice rises before he marches over to you, grabs a hold of your face with one hand, and stares you dead in the eyes. "Somethin' you wanna say?" He demands, eyes widening awaiting a response.

Instead, you spit in his face, watching him recoil in disgust.

"You'll pay for that," He states, reaching into his pocket for something whilst your eyes grow heavy once again, unaware of a red light flickering through the base and alarms blaring.

The two men exchange a look, one you're oblivious to when your head slumps back down to rest against your chest.

"Showtime." One of the men laughs, clapping his hands before they both exit the cell, leaving your weak body alone-something you can be silently thankful for.

"Bucky," His name passes from your lips before your eyes drop once more.

Leading the mission, Bucky refuses to trail from the plan. Sometimes, he'll swerve from the set motions, but when it comes to you, nothing is to be changed or come as a surprise.

Continuing through the dank corridors, Bucky keeps his gun aimed in front of him whilst Steve and Natasha follow behind. So far Bucky has not left a single guard standing, and some without breath.

"You think this is it?" Natasha questions, looking at a series of locked doors, each with a number printed above and the red light flashing.

Bucky remains silent, trying to zone out from the murmurs behind him. His eyes continuously scan over the doors, he homes in on the furthest down the corridor, noting the light flashing white instead of red.

"There." Bucky speaks up, picking up pace toward the door only to be surprised by three guards who start shooting.

Wasting no time, Bucky tears the three down with ease. He ignores their screams whilst he shoots and punches his way through them.

Breathing deeply, Bucky leans forward to see a series of buttons to unlock the door. "Got any idea-" Steve starts, only to be met with Bucky smashing his metal fist into the panel, causing the door to open.

Adjusting their eyes to the dimly lit room, the trio enter apprehensively.

Scanning the room, Bucky's breath catches in his throat at the frail figure in the corner of the room. "Y/n?" His voice croaks, wasting no time to rush to your side, delicately lifting your head up to his lap. Eyeing over your various injuries, Bucky shakes his head and nestles your cheek with his hand. "What've they done to you?"

"Buck, we've got to get her out, now." Steve places his hand on his friend's shoulder, watching his oldest friend help you up and break the chains keeping you cemented in place. "Nat's clearing our exit, we don't have long."

Upon picking you up, Bucky freezes at your loud cry. "I'm sorry, doll, I'm so sorry." He repeatedly mumbles into your neck as he cradles your body in his arms all too aware of you dipping in and out of consciousness.

Much to their surprise, their exit is easier than anticipated. With you lying limp in Bucky's arms breathing heartlessly, Nat starts the jet up.

"It was all just to prove a point." Bucky states quietly, an oxygen mask now covering your nose and mouth. "just to show they could still get back at me, after all this time." His fists begin to clench on the edge of the seat, something Steve quickly picks up on as he moves to sit beside the pair of you.

Looking down at you in daylight, Steve could feel his heart clench in his chest. From what he saw of you briefly in photographs, you were shell of the woman you were physically, let alone mentally when you eventually come to.

"She's safe now, Buck." Steve reminds Bucky, feeling a sense of hope wash over the jet at your eyes open.

"Buck?" You croak, trying to lift your hand up, only for it to be held tightly by Buckys. "You, you found me." Tears start to build in your eyes upon seeing his, only for them to quickly refill with black spots.

"Of course, I'll always find you." Bucky whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead as a tear glides across your skin.

two months later

"Okay, okay!" Bucky chuckles heartfully, clutching the menu in his grasp above his head whilst you pout up at him. "Just say sorry and it's yours, doll."

Crossing your arms over your chest, you lightly sigh. "Come on, that's not fair. Steve will agree with me on this, right, Steve?" Glancing over your shoulder, Steve doesn't move a muscle from the armchair situated in the compound living area. "Steve?" Waving your hand, you reach for a cushion to throw at him, only for it to be deflected at the last second.

"I think you've got a slight advantage here, Buck." Steve chimes in, much to Bucky's playful dismay.

Lowering his arms back down, Bucky kneels in front of you with the menu in hand. "Here you go, doll." He winks, watching you snatch it from his grasp before wheeling backward toward the coffee table.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Barnes." You salute, reaching across for your crutch to ease you out of the wheelchair.

Upon hearing a quiet wince, Bucky's gaze falls upon you, and starts to walk in your direction to assist. "She's got this." Natasha pipes up, now entering the room to see what all the commotion was.

"Thanks, Nat." You smile, now using the crutch you reach for your phone, revealing the scarring on your forearm which sometimes hurts to see.

With a quick tug, you pull on the sleeve of Bucky's henley you've stolen before dialing for the takeaway and leaving the room.

Now left alone with two old friends, Bucky can practically hear their questions protruding. "She's just taking things a day at a time." Bucky explains, burying his head in his hands at the memories of the past few months.

"I mean, I haven't heard her laugh like this since before," He trails off, not wishing to finish the sentence as images of blood, your screams, and pleads replay.

"It's alright," Natasha comments with a soft smile. "She's tougher than she looks, for a civilian that is." She adds.

"Who're you callin' a civilian?" You speak up, feigning shock at Natasha's remark. "I happen to be a very special person." You add, slowly making your way toward Bucky.

Smiling at the interaction, Steve dares to ask. "And what makes you special, huh, Y/n?" He plays along, thankful to see Bucky's smile growing as you reach him, wrapping your free arm around his middle.

"'Cause this guy gets to date me." You state with a smug grin, feeling Bucky kiss your temple with a smile on his lips. "Nothing more special than that, right?" Looking up at Bucky, his smile only widens as the sparkle in your eye flashes for a moment, slowly making its return.

"Yeah, doll." Bucky tells you. "Luckiest guy around."

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[lauraashley93]

The Thin Line | Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: Of one thing you were certain—Bucky Barnes hated you, and you hated him. How could you not considering the super soldier had made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell after you had been assigned to protect him? But there was someone after Bucky from his past, and now he was forced to work alongside you to stop them. And in the process, you would find out just how thin that line was between love and hate.

A/N: This one comes from this request that I received a while back! I have been criminally slow in responding and I sincerely apologize. Hopefully this makes up for it a little bit 🤍

Warnings: blood and violence (all canon for the MCU), someone takes a severe beating (may or may not be reader), ANGST, fluff scattered here and there, fatws!Bucky, banter, mature themes and allusions, grumpy!Bucky

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

Hate. There was perhaps no other word as final and lasting as hate. 

People had always said that there was a thin line between love and hate, that the two emotions were so similar it was often hard to tell them apart. But not to you. You knew the line between them distinctly. 

You had seen people fall out of love as easily as the winking out of a candle, and in the same manner you’d watched a person’s hate burn on even past the grave. You couldn’t understand how someone could mix up the two emotions, not when love had always seemed so fleeting and hate so persistent. 

What you didn’t know just yet was that the passion involved in both love and hate often danced upon that line you were so sure was distinct to you. You didn’t know that love, real love was barely an emotion at all. And you certainly didn’t know that when one person truly loved another, it was anything but fleeting. 

It was the one thing that lasted longer than hate. 

But it wasn’t your fault that you didn’t know. After all, how could you? You’d never known real love.

At least, not yet.

|||

The sky seemed to sparkle as the rare sunshine blasted through the clouds and beamed down upon the city of Brooklyn. 

But in this moment, you couldn’t fully appreciate its glory. No, not when this happened to be the day you were moving box after box of your belongings into your new apartment. The dazzling sun dared to make you collapse under its rays as you hauled out the last box of your stuff from your car. Sweat slipped down your spine as you managed to slam the trunk shut while balancing the box precariously on one hand. With a huff, you gripped the last box tightly and swiveled towards your apartment complex for the last time. 

By the time you’d managed to get into the lobby and over to the elevator, you were practically dreaming of being able to drop down this last box into your new apartment and drop dead on your new couch. You could almost taste the beer you’d picked up on your way into the city and-

“You have got to be kidding me!” You exclaimed, dread coursing through your frame as you read the sign taped onto the elevator doors. 

Out of Service.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” The concierge called, leaning on his desk and offering you an uncaring smile, “Stupid thing’s been breaking down all month.”

And you haven’t fixed it yet?

The angry words stayed in your head as you decided with a long sigh that the argument wasn’t worth it. 

“That’s fine,” You gritted out, adjusting your hold on the box, “I’ll just take the stairs.”

“Good luck,” The concierge wished, his tone bored. 

Not even an offer to help you? The urge to yell at the worker was growing by the second, but you were determined to start this mission out right. Gritting your teeth, you walked over to the stairs and started climbing them without giving yourself time to hesitate. This was going to be a long journey up, and you’d rather get it over with as fast as possible. 

By the time you reached your floor, your arms were trembling with effort and your legs were moments from giving out. You took the last step up the stairs onto your floor, letting out a sigh of relief as you paused only for a moment. Just a few more steps and you’d be at your door. 

You took half of a step when someone slammed right into you. With the box obstructing your view, you couldn’t see the person coming and they clearly hadn’t seen you. You let out a yelp as you stumbled back towards the stairs behind you. In sudden panic to not tumble down them, you released the box you were holding to free your hands. Just as you were grappling for a railing or something to keep you from falling, a gloved hand gripped your arm and yanked you forward, away from the stairs. 

You stumbled right back into the person who had just collided with you seconds prior. As you fell into their hard chest, you were bewildered since you were sure you had dropped the box right…

As you glanced up, you saw the box you had released resting easily on one of the stranger’s hands. His other was still holding your arm, and it was then that you realized that his hand was ice cold. Even with the glove on. With furrowed brows, you glanced up towards the stranger.

“Thank-” Your words died abruptly as your eyes met steel blue ones burning down at you. His hair was shorter and his face was drawn into a look of slight annoyance, but it was him. Your mission had run into you before you could even move into your apartment, “You.”

James Buchanan Barnes released your arm, his stubbled jaw clenched in the way you figured it often was. You would be lying if you said it was only your mission that made your thinking halt so swiftly, because none of his pictures did Bucky’s roguish beauty justice. He was ruggedly, painfully, hopelessly handsome, and you scrambled to collect your mind.

“Don’t mention it,” Came Bucky’s low reply. His voice shot straight through you, setting your hairs on end and stirring something in your chest. With easy strength that now made sense, Bucky held onto your box with one hand, “Moving in today?”

It took every ounce of your strength not to giggle. His words were strained and almost…awkward. You knew he didn’t talk much anymore, but it was hopelessly adorable how he was trying to make small talk. With a smile you kept restrained, you nodded.

“In that unit right there, actually,” You replied, walking over to your door and turning back towards the super soldier, “Thanks for saving my box.”

“I think I saved more than that,” Bucky quipped, his tone smooth and rough all at once. You raised an eyebrow at the man.

His arrogant charm was still intact, that’s for sure.

“Well thanks for that too,” You responded, pulling your keys from your pocket and unlocking your door. As you shouldered it open, you held out your hands to take the box back.

You could tell he wanted to carry the box in for you, a remnant of the 40’s manners that were ingrained deep within him. You kept your hands out for the box, to which Bucky gave in swiftly. You breathed a quiet sigh of relief as he did. Had he brought it in for you, he would have seen the surveillance equipment and weapons scattered about the unpacked apartment. 

“Well, I’m next door if you need anything.” Bucky stepped back once you had the box in your hands, half of your body inside your open door. You smiled at him, internally cheering that this mission had already begun on such a great foot. 

“Nice to meet you, neighbor,” You announced, your trained eyes taking in the bags underneath his eyes and the tense hold of his frame, “I’m Y/N.”

He hesitated only for a moment, “Bucky.”

And just like that, he had turned on his heel and walked away towards the stairs. You watched him go for a second, intrigue filtering into your gaze. He was distant and detached like you had expected, and the air of grumpiness he bore was unmistakable. But there was a softness to him that you couldn’t deny. Only a touch, but it was there.

Before he could see you watching him, you fully entered your apartment and made sure the door shut behind you. Setting the box down with a huff, you settled your hands onto your hips and surveyed the controlled chaos before you. A few handguns lay strewn around, and your secured technology was piled atop the couch you so desperately wanted to drop onto. 

But you couldn’t sleep, not just yet. There was work to be done.

Out of your entire CIA division, you were the operative that Sam Wilson had tasked with keeping an eye on his lone wolf of a friend. Even though Sam knew he could take care of himself, he had asked you to keep tabs on Bucky to ensure he was safe, especially since the Winter Soldier had racked up a list of enemies just dying to exact revenge now that the world was back to semi-normal. 

But this wasn’t the Winter Soldier. This was Bucky Barnes, and even though you knew he could handle his own, you were not going to take this mission lightly. You would look out for him, make sure he didn’t drop off the grid like he loved to do, make sure no rogue enemies took him down.

You would protect him, even though you knew Bucky would kill you and Sam if he found out. 

So, you would just have to keep him from finding out.

|||

It had been almost two months since you moved in, and the most you had talked with Bucky since your first encounter was in passing on the stairs and the occasional elevator ride. 

Of course, you had formatted your daily routine to oppose his perfectly, ensuring you would run into him as many times as passable for coincidence in a day. Even with that, though, all you managed to get out of Barnes was a nod or the occasional hello. He truly was a lone wolf—quiet, grumpy as hell, and, well, alone.

Even with his avoidance of you and all other humans in general, you managed to survey him nearly every day. It had been quiet. No intruders, no threats, no disappearances. Physically, he was perfectly safe. Mentally? 

You shook your head at the thought. Bucky needed a life. And social interaction. Sam called you often, wondering if he was still alive considering how much Bucky dodged his texts. It was almost like he wanted to be separated. Like he was punishing himself for something. 

That last thought rang through your mind as you started cleaning the dishes you had acquired from your dinner. As the warm, sudsy water ran across your fingers and over the pot you were washing, your brows were furrowed in concentration. If Bucky really was keeping his distance on purpose, maybe protecting him physically wouldn’t be the object of this mission. 

But you weren’t trained for that. You were trained for gun fights and strategy and high-level, covert operations. You were trained to infiltrate criminal holdings and take down dangerous individuals. You were trained to attack, protect, defend, strategize. 

That’s why you noticed that Bucky Barnes’ door didn’t open precisely at the same time that it had every night for two months. 

You paused in your dish-washing, setting down the pot into the sink and turning off the faucet. Letting silence cloak your apartment, you listened closely for the sound of his footsteps or the shutting of his door. 

Nothing. 

He could be running late, but Bucky never ran late. He never-

There was the smallest shuffle of a foot against your wooden floor.

You shot your hand out and grabbed the knife you had just washed, but you were a moment too slow. Just as your hand closed around the handle and you began to turn around, your back was shoved into your fridge and the knife ripped out of your hand. 

Before you could even blink, Bucky Barnes had you pinned against the fridge with his metal hand around your throat. 

Your pulse ratcheted up painfully, your eyes wide as you gripped onto his metal wrist. His grip wasn’t constricting your airway, but was applying enough pressure to remind you that your life was currently in his grasp. Bucky was close to you, so close that you could see the flecks of gray in his blue eyes as well as the fury that crossed through them.

“Who the hell are you?” His voice sent a shiver down your spine. It was dark and rough and even, and it should not have had the effect on you that it did. 

His body heat poured into you with how close he was to you, and the cold metal of his hand was a sharp contrast. Breathing was difficult, and not entirely because of his hand on your throat. There was something in the air between you, something thick and palpable. You swallowed, keeping your breathing as even as you could.

“Your neighbor,” You responded, not entirely having to fake the tremble in your tone.

“Bullshit,” Bucky growled, his grip on your throat tightening the slightest bit, “You’ve been tailing me for weeks. Who do you work for?”

“Just because our schedules clash doesn’t mean-”

“If one more lie comes out of your pretty little mouth, I’ll make sure whoever hired you is the only one who knows your death wasn’t an accident.” Bucky was unflinching, cold hard rage burning across his features. Beneath it, though, you could see fear. So much fear. It made your heart nearly crumble. 

He was scared you were here to hurt him.

“I’m with the CIA,” you finally whispered, your tone no longer shaking despite his outright threat. For some reason, you knew he would not hurt you, “I’m here to watch out for you, make sure you’re safe.”

Bucky’s grip on your throat lessened the slightest bit, and his brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of why the CIA would surveil him. Not giving him a chance to speak, you continued, “And I’m pretty sure the person who hired me would come here and beat your ass himself if you killed me.”

You paused, nodded your head to the side slightly and said more to yourself than him, “Well, he’d try.”

“Who hired you?” Bucky repeated, his tone less harsh than before, but just as dark.

You took a beat to consider your options, but conceded defeat with a sigh, “Sam Wilson.”

Being so close to him, you could see every emotion that flashed through his face. As you watched him work through anger to frustration to annoyance, his grip on your throat loosened until his hand was just resting against your neck. 

“Unbelievable,” Bucky grumbled, pulling his hand off of your neck and stepping back in one swift motion. 

You let out a full breath, bringing a hand up to touch your throat where his metal hand had just been. You felt suddenly cold without his body heat by you, but it was a cold that you welcomed. If this was how he was going to thank you for trying to help him then you couldn’t wait to be away from him.

You looked over to see Bucky a few strides away, his phone pressed to his ear and his hand on his hip.  Before you could speak to him, whoever he was calling must have picked up, but you didn’t have to guess at who it was.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Bucky suddenly exploded, his jaw tight. Whatever Sam said didn’t appease him because his exasperation only intensified.

“You Sharon Carter’ed me!” Bucky gritted out, “Steve was clueless so he didn’t notice until she was on his doorstep with a gun, but did you really think I wouldn’t?”

“Sharon Carter’ed?” You mumbled, confused. Shaking your head, you took a step closer to Bucky, “Listen, if you’ll just give me a minute to explain,”

Bucky stopped you, pointing in your direction, “No, you don’t get to talk here.”

Shock crashed over you as he continued to argue with Sam over the phone. Indignation flared within your chest and you sputtered for a moment, trying to comprehend the fact that he had just shushed you in your own apartment. 

“Nuh uh,” You interrupted, anger flaring hot in your veins as you stormed over to Bucky, “This is my apartment and you do not get to waltz in here, choke me out, then tell me I can’t speak.”

“You choked her out?” Sam shouted on the other side of the phone, so loud even you could hear it. Bucky’s eyes were hard as he dropped the phone to his side and took a step closer to you. He was menacing when he wanted to be, and right now, towering over you with a quiet sort of anger, he was. If only you scared easily.

“Oh really?” He nearly whispered, his anger flooding down at you. You could see him getting more frustrated the longer you stared him down right back, your chin tilted up and your gaze as leveled with his as it could be considering his height and stature, “You’ve been spying on me for weeks and now I’m the one invading your space?”

“I wasn’t spying on you, I was looking out for you. If you haven’t noticed, your friend is a little more than worried about you!” You fired back. You heard Sam saying something on the phone, but it was still down by Bucky’s side. 

The two of you were staring each other down, that same thick tension in the air. Not thinking about the consequences, you reached down and snatched the phone from Bucky’s grasp and turned it on speaker. 

Bucky looked at you in pure shock, as if he couldn’t believe you’d actually just taken the phone from him.

“You’re on speaker now, Sam,” You informed. 

“Finally,” Sam sighed over the phone, his tone surprisingly even and patient, “Buck, you gotta understand where I’m coming from. You don’t answer anyone’s texts, you don’t check in, and I know for a fact you’ve had one or two unwelcome visitors at your door.”

“I can handle myself, Sam,” Bucky gritted out. 

“I know you can, but you shouldn’t have to! I know that it’s hard with Steve gone, so-”

“No, you don’t know.” Bucky’s voice was final, and Sam paused, not seeming to fight with his statement. Bucky stared down at the floor, his arms crossed over his chest. 

You couldn’t help but stare at him. There was a sadness in those words, one that nearly shattered your heart. Your anger towards the super soldier softened the slightest bit.

“You’re right, I don’t,” Sam conceded, “But I’m trying to reach out here. We don’t have many people left, man. I don’t want to lose another friend.”

That seemed to soften the edge of Bucky’s frustration so deeply that even the frown set into his face disappeared. In its place was resignation. 

“I’m not here to intrude on your life,” You chimed in, making Bucky glance up to you, “I’m just here to make sure you’re safe.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Bucky grumbled. 

“I’m not your babysitter,” You assured, “And trust me, after tonight I want to spend as little time around you as you do around me. So, let’s make a deal. I keep to myself and you don’t break into my place and try to kill me in my sleep.”

Bucky hesitated, his eyes surveying you closely. On the phone between you, Sam piped up, “And you have to answer my texts.”

Bucky groaned, running a hand through his short, dark hair before shaking his head. After what seemed like an eternity, he sighed in defeat, and you couldn’t stop the small smile of victory that tugged on your lips.

“Fine,” He gave in, his eyes turning up to lock with yours, “But if I see you tailing me one more time, deal’s off.”

“No promises,” You responded boldly, your heart pounding strangely as Bucky took a menacing step closer to you.

“Then no promises about breaking in,” He shot back. The two of you glared intensely at each other until a voice called out from the phone.

“Alright you two, knock it off,” Sam ordered, sounding so incredibly tired, “Now can I please go? You caught me right in the middle of my beauty sleep.”

You chuckled softly, a smile ghosting your lips again, “Bye Sam,”

You ended the call and handed the phone back to Bucky, who you found already staring at you. You couldn’t place the look in his gaze, but it seemed akin to disdain, so your smile dropped. 

“How did you even get into my apartment?” You asked. Bucky kept his arms crossed over his chest, making his biceps bulge against his long-sleeve Henley.

“You tell me, you’re CIA,” He shrugged, looking too smug, “Or should I call Sam back and tell him he sent a novice to babysit me?”

“Stay out of trouble, Barnes,” Was all you said back, your jaw held tight.

“Have fun with your dishes,” Bucky dryly responded, brushing past you without another word towards your door. Frustration bubbled up within your gut, and it took every ounce of your patience to not turn and yell right back at him. So, taking a deep breath, you turned and watched him open your apartment door.

He paused and glanced back over at you before he was fully out, “And stay out of my way. I’m doing this for Sam, not because I need your help.”

Then he slammed your door and left. 

Taking all of your energy not to scream, you let out another sigh and put a hand to your forehead. Gone was the distant, polite neighbor. You had failed epically, but you couldn't from here on out. 

Bucky Barnes was going to make your life hell, and you already dreaded every second to come.

|||

Over the next month, your nods and hello’s in passing turned into grunts and, if you were lucky enough, the occasional insult you could fire back at.

In short, you loathed Barnes. 

Looking back, you couldn’t fathom how his handsome features had drawn you in when you first met. Sure, he was still stupidly attractive, but now it was more frustrating than it was something to fawn over. 

You still did your job as best you could, but you counted the days until Sam could come up to New York and take over the mission for you.

Currently, you were mulling over ways to subtly infuriate Barnes more than you already did as you walked back to your apartment complex from your run. You tried to get out and run at a park nearby a few times a week, but considering how much you hated running, you’d missed a few weeks in the process. 

Today, though, you just had to go. You needed to clear your head after you bumped into Barnes this morning and he informed you that somehow, the potted plant hanging on your balcony “accidentally” ended up on the ground five stories down. 

As you walked back into the cool lobby of your apartment building, you glanced up at the stairs that sat right beside the elevator. You paused for just a moment, considering if you should be healthy and take the stairs. That moment was swifter than you’d like to admit as you turned towards the elevator only to find the doors closing. 

Against the protest of your legs sore from your run, you jogged over to the elevator, “Hey, hold the doors!”

As you approached, you saw a hand shoot through and stop the doors from closing just in time. As they opened back up, you sighed in relief, an easy smile on your features, “Thanks. I-”

As you stepped into the elevator, your words died. As you and the person who had held the elevator for you locked eyes, the both of you groaned. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” You grumbled at the same time as Bucky Barnes.

The elevator doors shut, closing you into one of your worst nightmares—the two of you stuck together in a confined space. The air was heavy and the tension high, an uneasy silence settling in the air. Your chest tightened slightly and your body tensed up, almost as if you were waiting for something to happen. Deciding to be civil, you looked over at Bucky and offered him a cordial smile.

“Had a good day so far?” You asked, your voice strained. 

Bucky just shook his head, “If you try to make small talk right now, I will throw you into the elevator shaft.”

Your smile dropped instantly, replaced by a grimace, “You are so violent, you should really talk to your therapist about all that pent up anger.”

“I hate you,” Bucky grumbled. 

“Well that makes two of us.”

Almost as if on cue, the elevator comes to a grinding halt. The stop is so sudden that it jolts the box, making you gasp and grab onto the railing along the wall opposite Bucky. 

“What the hell?” Bucky grits out, walking up and pushing the button to your floor repeatedly. When that doesn’t work, he pushes the emergency button only to have no response. That button must have been broken too.

Realizing suddenly your predicament, you brought a hand to the bridge of your nose, “This is not happening.”

Of all the times for the stupid elevator to break down, it chose now? When you were stuck inside with the one person in the world who hated you the most?

“Hello?” Bucky called out, banging on the side of the elevator. 

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s gonna fix it,” You criticized, shaking your head at Bucky. 

“Well what else are we supposed to do? The damn help button won’t work,” He fired back.

“I know you were born almost a century ago, but we have these things called cell phones and they do this magical thing where we can call for help.” You pulled out your phone and showed him the emergency call screen for show. Shaking his head, Bucky grumbled something about “insufferable” under his breath as you called for help.

While you were on the phone with emergency services, you explained your situation only to be told the fire department was caught up and wouldn’t be able to help for another hour. 

“An hour?!” You exclaimed, already planning how you were going to beat the hell out of the management team for not fixing the stupid elevator. 

“I’m sorry, that’s the best we can do,” The emergency operator apologized. Suddenly feeling guilty for you outburst on the poor worker just doing their job, you sighed. 

“No, don’t be. It’s not your fault. Thanks for the help,” You amended, your tone softer this time. After hanging up, you slipped the phone into your pocket. 

“Well, looks like we’re stuck here for a while so get-,” Your words halted abruptly when you looked up and saw Bucky opening the doors of the elevator by force, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Getting out of here,” He gritted back, shoving open the doors easily. You almost laughed when he was met with a solid brick wall. With a smug smile, you tilted your head at the soldier.

“You were saying?” You sweetly taunted. He shot you a death glare as he let go of the elevator doors, allowing them to shut back. 

“It’s gotta be an easy fix,” Bucky mumbled to himself, walking back to the wall opposite you and beginning to bang on the side of the elevator. 

You gasped as the elevator box began to tremble under his hits and you lurched forward, grabbing his bicep to stop his assault, “Stop! You’re gonna send us plummeting straight to the basement.”

“Well then maybe I’ll get lucky,” He grunted, shaking off your hold and going to hit it again. This time, real fear hit you. 

“If we drop, you’d make it unscathed,” You began, and Bucky didn’t even look at you. 

“Exactly, so what’s the-”

“I wouldn’t.” Your words are softer than even you’d expected, but it managed to halt Bucky’s assault on the side of the elevator. He glanced back at you, and in that moment you understood exactly what hung in the air unspoken. He was a super soldier, you were a normal human. 

He couldn’t respond before the elevator gave a sick jolt.

You gasped, your knees nearly buckling from the fall. Before either of you could react, the elevator was careening down in a free-fall. You barely had time to scream when Bucky’s strong arm was around your waist and tugging you close, pressing you between the elevator wall and his body. He held you in a death grip, locking you against him and effectively saving your life.

Luckily, just as quickly as the fall had started, it stopped with a brain-shaking halt. 

The silence that followed was thick, and you didn’t realize you were gripping Bucky’s shoulders until your mind finally was convinced you weren’t going to fall to your death. Coming to your senses, you felt your body pressed tightly up against Bucky’s and looked up to see him staring down at you, his brows drawn together and the hate in his eyes missing. 

It was then that you realized you could no longer ignore the tension that was present whenever he was near you, because in this position it was overwhelming. 

The moment was over as soon as it had begun. You were shoving him off almost as soon as he was letting you go. Breathless, you shoved Bucky’s shoulder, “What the hell, Barnes? You could have gotten us killed!”

“Then you would have failed your stupid mission,” Bucky pointed out, only making you angrier. 

“You are infuriating,” You seethed, holding your hands out in exasperation, “Are you trying to get me to quit? Are you that insistent on shoving everyone else away?”

Bucky shook his head, his jaw held tight and his blue eyes on fire. He was staying silent, shutting down again like he often did. That only made you angrier, but a part of you yearned to get closer, to prove to him that you weren’t going to leave him.

Once again, as if on cue, the elevator began to move again with a jolt. You let out a breath of relief, your anger turning into exhaustion. Just as the elevator stopped, this time at your floor, you got off first, Bucky close behind.

“Fine, give me the cold shoulder,” You called out to him as you approached your door beside his. You fished out your keys and stopped, looking over at him as he ignored you and worked to open his door, “Do what you have to, but I’m not leaving you.”

Bucky froze, turning to look at you. Something in his gaze stirred your heart, but you kept your gaze strong and unflinching, “I’m seeing this mission through, whether you like it or not.”

Then you opened your door and went inside, leaving Barnes out in the hallway, still frozen with his keys in his door. 

|||

That night, you couldn’t get to sleep. 

You tried everything—sleeping supplements, reading, counting sheep. Nothing worked. Your mind refused to settle down, running over your elevator encounter with Bucky over and over again. The way he seemed to stall when you said you weren’t leaving him, the way he had grabbed you the instant the elevator dropped, the way you could still feel the burn of his arm around your waist. 

The way being held by him had felt so infuriatingly right. 

You covered your face with your pillow, willing yourself to forget what you just couldn’t seem to. You didn’t have to try long when the sound of something scraping on glass caught your attention. Slowly, you pulled the pillow off of your face and listened closely, the silence of your apartment settling over you like a blanket. 

Maybe you had dreamt the noise. Maybe Bucky really was getting to you head and it was making you cr-

There it was again.

You sat up this time, your brows furrowed as you swiftly got out of bed. With silent feet, you crept to your window and pulled down one blind just enough for you to peer out into the dark night illuminated only by the haze of streetlights below. 

Nothing. Nothing, nothing…there. 

In the murky night, your strained eyes caught a glimpse of a rope hanging down off to the left of your window. Towards Bucky’s apartment. Looking a bit harder, you saw another, and then another. Then, now that you were listening, you began to hear the soft thuds of shoes against brick and iron and glass.

Someone was going to break through his window.

Suddenly vaulted into action, you jogged out of your room, grabbing the gun you kept on your nightstand as you did. You didn’t stop to consider the fact that you were only in a large t-shirt with no pants on. The only thing you could think about was Bucky sleeping next door while those intruders busted into his windows. In a matter of seconds, you were out into the hallway and pounding on Bucky’s door. 

“Barnes, let me in,” You hissed, your voice low so as not to wake the neighbors. When there was no response, you pounded your fist against the door again. The sound mocked the repetitive thumping of your heart within your chest, its beats not only for the fight to come or the sudden burst of energy. 

“Come on!” You pressed, in the middle of another round of knocking when the door flew open. On the other side, a very pissed and very shirtless Bucky stood, his muscular arm barring the doorway.

“This better be good,” Bucky grumbled, his voice closer to a low growl. 

If this were any other time, you would have taken a moment to appreciate the sculpted plane of his body or even to notice the blanket strewn on the hardfloor indicating he didn’t sleep in a bed. You didn’t worry about any of that, though. Instead, you shoved past Bucky as soon as that door was opened, your gun raised.

“What the hell are you-”

Bucky was cut off by the shattering of his window.

You had four rounds fired off before the first two intruders could set their feet in the apartment. The blasts were muffled by the sound suppressor on your gun, but they found their targets with no less force or deadly precision. 

“Shit,” Bucky cursed, the sound of his dog tags clinking as he sprinted over to the window just as the third and fourth intruders touched down. This time, these two made it down, the bullets lodging in the wall or their vests. 

Then Bucky was on them, his metal arm catching one by the throat while he kicked the absolute shit out of the other, sending the intruder flying into the wall. The plaster cracked behind him and you shoved your gun into your waistband, no longer able to fire without risking hitting Bucky. 

As Bucky incapacitated the intruder he had by the throat, you made sure the one he kicked stayed down. As the attacker staggered to his feet and rushed you, you dodged his clumsy hits easily and landed a crushing uppercut to the underside of his jaw. The sound of his teeth snapping together was sickening, but you were unfazed. 

As the large attacker stumbled back, you rushed him and slid to the ground. You wrapped your legs around one of his and tugged, bringing the large invader crashing to the ground with a force that made the floor shudder. Moving quickly, you maneuvered yourself on top of the downed intruder and whipped out your gun, holding it directly at his head.

Suddenly, the apartment was silent except for the panting of both you and Bucky. You glanced up to see Bucky standing over the invader he was fighting, his bare chest heaving with breath. Probably more out of shock than exertion, you figured.

Turning your gaze down to the one pinned beneath you, you held the gun steady, “Who do you work for?”

The man smiled up at you, his teeth full of blood, “You’ll have to kill me,”

“Okay,” You said simply, moving the barrel of your gun to his shoulder and pulling the trigger. 

The invader let out a strangled cry of pain at the nonfatal injury, his body writhing beneath you. 

“Let’s try this again,” You gritted out, pushing the gun closer to his chin, “You tell me who you work for, or the next shot goes into your brain.”

“He’ll kill me for telling you,” The man nearly sobbed.

“Who’s he?” Bucky growled, staring down at the attacker mercilessly. When he didn’t respond, you clenched your jaw.

“Either die now for not telling us, or die later with a chance of making it away. Your choice.” Your words rang through the room as both you and Bucky stared down this terrified intruder. A pang of sympathy ran through you that was quickly smothered because in the end, he had come after Bucky.

And for some reason, that made your vision bleed red.

“Kingpin,” He finally cried, his eyes shut as his blood seeped into Bucky’s floor, “Kingpin sent us to silence the Winter Soldier.”

You had to fight to keep the shock from your features long enough to whip the butt of your gun across the blubbering man’s face and knock him out. Once he was silent beneath you, you stood slowly and looked over to Bucky. His jaw was clenched and his eyes holding that same haunted look they often did.

“I had a run-in with Kingpin as the Winter Soldier,” Bucky muttered, his eyes trained down on the floor where the four intruders were, “I managed to get past his defenses, tore through them like paper. What I found nearly sent him to prison for good if Hydra hadn't cut him a deal.” 

The words broke over you, making your mind whir, “So if he’s coming after you now, after all this time,” 

Bucky looks up at you, his blue eyes nearly knocking your bravado out, “Then that means he’s got something going on he wants to make sure no one finds out about.”

You took a moment to process the implications. Kingpin had something big going down, not that he didn’t always, but now it was more personal. Now, it involved Bucky, which meant it involved you. 

“I’ll get this mess cleaned up,” Bucky sighed, running a hand through his short, dark hair, “Go back to your apartment.”

That was it? Not so much as a thank you?

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “That’s one way to thank someone who just saved your ass.”

“You didn’t save anything,” Bucky gritted out, taking a step closer to you in that intimidating way you found he often liked to, “If you hadn’t come by, I still would have woken up and taken those guys easily.”

“Are you kidding me?” You exclaimed, gesturing around to the mess, “I had two of those guys out before you were even fully awake, Barnes! Just admit I helped you,”

He was so close to you that you could barely reach out and you would be touching his bare skin. The temptation was strong, stronger than you’d like to admit. It was like he was a magnet and you a compass, and for the life of you, even when you wanted nothing more than to run away from him, you couldn’t stop yourself from being led right back into him. 

“I said it before, and I’ll say it again,” Bucky muttered, his voice low and making your stomach take a sudden swirl. “I don’t need your help.”

His eyes darted down to your lips, and then lower before returning to your gaze. It was then that you became fully aware of your lack of pants. Your cheeks heated slightly and you felt your stomach go taut from his attention, but you clenched your jaw and held your place.

“Clearly, you do,” You echoed back to him, refusing to back down. After staring off at him for a few more moments, you let out a frustrated groan and stepped back, snapping the tension in the room as you shoved your way to the door. 

“Why do I even bother with you?” You gritted, stepping over a body, “I got up in the middle of the night and risked my life to help you and I don’t get so much as a-”

“Thanks,”

Bucky’s voice was so quiet that you almost missed it, but you had heard it. You froze in your tracks, your body going still except for your speeding heart as you slowly turned back around.

“What?” You whispered, unbelieving what he had just said. Bucky shot you a pointed glare, but let out a long sigh, some of the anger draining from his face. He looked tired, so incredibly tired.

“Thank you,” He repeated, the words cutting straight through your anger, “I know I can be difficult, it’s just…I’m not…”

He struggled with the words, his voice no longer flooded with frustration or annoyance. You spent a moment peering at the soldier, taking in the fact that he indeed had slept on the floor and noting the dog tags that hung around his throat. 

Bucky Barnes was haunted by his past. So haunted, you guessed, that he was shoving away everyone in his life to make sure nothing bad could happen again. You still were infuriated by him, but you couldn’t say that you hated him. 

In fact, you couldn’t begin to think if you ever really did. Or if maybe that hate was just a cover for the growing attraction you felt towards him, for the…

Ridiculous, you scolded yourself. 

“It’s okay,” You finally announced, your words softer than you intended them to be, “I get it.”

Somehow, you found yourself offering him a sad, soft smile that made the hard edges of his face soften. 

“You’re a lone wolf, I get that.” Your words made his jaw twitch, “And I’m not gonna tell you how to heal. You already know that answer. So, when the time comes that you’re ready to not do all this alone anymore, I’ll be right next door.”

Something changed deep within Bucky’s gaze, something that would have made you stay if you didn’t turn and walk towards the door. As you did, you felt the thumping of your heart. Your words had not just been an offer of help for this Kingpin situation. No, they had been more. An offer of help for anything, and you hadn’t realized you had meant them until they had come out.

Now you were left wondering for the rest of the night when exactly you had stopped hating Bucky Barnes.

And why you had the suspicion that you never hated him at all.

|||

As the dawn broke the next morning, so did your common sense. 

No matter how magnetizing Barnes was, you had to keep your distance unless your mission directly required you to get close. You didn’t know how deep your…not hatred…ran, but you weren’t willing to find out. It could compromise this mission, and most dangerous of all, it could compromise Bucky.

You had to keep your head in the game. So, the next week or so was packed with you spending the day actively avoiding Barnes in the same way you had purposely collided with him at first. During the nights, you poured over documents and case files concerning Kingpin. You tracked his movements, hunted down where his men crawled back to after their missions, watched his cover businesses with a close, keen eye.

Kingpin was an intimidating mobster and could rule his forces with an iron fist of fear, but he wasn’t necessarily the brightest businessman. He was good at covering his illegal tracks, but not great. That was why you were able to catch the whispers around the upcoming charity gala a local socialite was hosting. 

Word was, Kingpin and his men would be at the gala to finish working out a business deal with an associate. The same business deal, you suspected, that had him lashing out at not just Bucky, but several other known adversaries to his empire across the whole of New York. 

So if Kingpin would be there, so would you.

As you finished getting ready for the gala and stood in front of your mirror to make sure everything was perfect, your mind strayed to the super soldier next door. You hadn’t seen him in over a week, not since that night where you saved his life. Even now, his apartment was silent.

You let out a long sigh and adjusted the contours of your dress and felt for the weapons beneath it. The floor-length number was deceiving to anyone with a keen eye, exposing parts of you that would normally hide weapons. Your thigh on your dominant side was almost fully exposed with a slit, and your bodice provided no way to get to a weapon if it was stored there. 

You were a professional, though. Where you hid your weapons, no one would see until it was too late.

As you made your way out of your apartment, being sure to take the stairs this time, and then climbed into the ride you had waiting for you outside, your mind played through a million different ways this night could go. 

Best case would be you catching wind of whatever business had Kingpin so wound up with no altercations in the meantime. Worst case…well, let’s hope you didn’t have to use those weapons you so painstakingly hid.

After a drive that wasn’t long enough, you clambered out into the star-lit, diamond-encrusted evening. The event hall was elegant as you walked in, decked in lavender and silver and crawling with New York’s most elite. In a crowd like this, you knew it would not be hard to find a man as large as Kingpin. 

The longer you spent canvasing the gala, the more your worst case scenario started to play out in your head. As you had feared, Kingpin wasn’t here, not that you could see. Odds were, he sent someone in his place to do the negotiating. Now you had to find some way of finding that-

You gasped as your shoulder bumped right into a firm chest. You had been so busy scanning the room that you hadn’t been looking where you were walking. A warm, calloused hand gripped onto your elbow to keep you stable, and the way the touch made your brain fog should have been an indicator of who this man was. 

But you did not think of it until you glanced up, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t…what are you doing here?”

As your gaze connected with Bucky Barnes, you saw the same flash of disbelief and then annoyance run through his crystal blue eyes.

“Are you serious, doll? You can’t even give me one night out without following me?” Bucky muttered lowly, his hand still around your elbow, holding you close. 

Your chest skipped at that word, that nickname he had called you, but you ignored it and glared right back up at the man, “You know, and this may come as a shock to you, but not everything in my life revolves around following you,”

Bucky scoffed, tilting his head at you. Suddenly, you were fighting to overcome how stunning he was in the all black suit that he wore. His alluring gaze seemed to draw you in again, and you knew you had to get away from him. 

“I wasn’t born yesterday, sweetheart.” Bucky assured, his tone like pure narcotics to your soul.

You let out a short laugh, “Trust me, I know.”

He shook his head, licking his bottom lip as he held your arm and started pulling you towards the exit, “It’s time for you to go.”

“Hey, you cannot just tell me what to do!” You muttered, pulling your arm from his grasp and coming to an abrupt halt. He gritted his jaw as he turned and looked down to you, but you beat him to the punch.

“If you’re here for the same reason as me, then Kingpin’s men are out here somewhere carrying out a business deal that could be huge. This could be our only chance to stop it.”

“Our?” Bucky repeated, and you stared at him indignantly.

“That’s what you caught from all of that?” You exclaimed, huffing out a breath, “Look, whatever is happening is big. If we don’t stop him, who will?”

“I said before, stay out of this. Go back to Langley and report your mission as a success, and leave me alone. These men are dangerous, don’t make this your fight.” Bucky’s words weren’t as angry as before, there was something in them, something almost desperate. 

You held his gaze, taking a step closer, “Trust me, sweetheart, I’ve dealt with plenty of dangerous men.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked, almost taunting you as he cocked his head at you. 

Your heart was racing, your skin was on fire and he wasn’t even touching you. Maybe leaving was the best idea.

You caught something out of the side of your vision, and looked over towards the dance floor. There you saw one of Kingpin’s associates you’d been tracking all week step out onto the dance floor with a woman you’d never seen before. As he pulled her into a waltz, you knew immediately that this was a business dance, not pleasure. 

“There, 11 o’clock,” You whispered, turning your gaze back to Bucky as his gaze flitted towards the direction you gaze. He nodded once.

“That’s them,” He agreed.

“Come on,” You urged, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the dance floor.

“Woah, woah, I don’t dance,” Bucky protested, but let you pull him nonetheless. You cracked a half-smile as you looked back at Bucky, and you noticed the way something in his gaze shifted at the sight of your smile.

“Well tonight you do.” 

As you pulled Bucky out into the slow dance alongside a few dozen other couples, you noticed the way his lips tipped up ever so slightly. The sight of that smile…it made your heart miss more than a few beats. 

As the two of you joined the fray, Bucky tugged you into him so swiftly that you let out a gasp. Expertly, he guided one hand to the small of your back and grabbed your hand with the other. In a matter of moments, the two of you were dancing, and you looked back up at the soldier in wonder.

“I thought you said you don’t dance,” You mused. Bucky smiled, then turned his gaze to you.

“I don’t, doesn’t mean I can’t,” He informed. 

In that moment, with your hand in his gloved metal one and him smiling down at you like that…it was enough to make you forget anything before this, before now, before him. The two of you danced, and for a moment both of you forgot why you’d joined the dance floor in the first place. Forgotten was business and missions and danger, the only thing left in the world was his hands on you as you danced. 

You could hardly breathe as he led you around the dance floor, and you certainly couldn’t take your eyes off of his. You weren’t smiling anymore, but neither was he. You didn’t smile because you knew. In that moment, held in his arms and dancing like the two of you had been practicing this step your entire life, like you had been made to dance together, you knew.

You knew that no matter what unfolded in the days and weeks to come, whatever became of this mission, Bucky Barnes had ruined you. For no longer could you dance with anyone else. Not when you knew this, knew him. 

He had ruined you in this moment, and for the first time in your life you understood why the Moon never left its orbit. The Moon was so enthralled with catching even a glimpse of the Sun that it was willing to bear the black of night if that’s what it took to bear the Sun’s rays.

Bucky Barnes had ruined you, and now you could never leave your orbit either. 

“Doll, I-”

Whatever Bucky was going to say died as the two of you suddenly found yourselves dancing right beside Kingpin’s associate. That was the snap to reality that you needed, and you forced out1 the outrageous thoughts that had been plaguing you. 

Thinking quickly, you pulled out of Bucky’s hold and stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulder. This position let you inconspicuously listen in to what it was that the associate was saying to his business partner, and Bucky quickly caught on as he brought his hands to your waist and held you close. 

You’d like to say that eavesdropping was the only reason you did this, but you’d be lying. Being held by him set your skin on fire, as if you’d been touched by lightning and survived. You needed this, you craved this, with his hands on your waist and his breath on your neck. But you had to focus right now, you had to hear what the associate was saying. 

You forced your brain to switch into operative mode, forcing yourself to focus only on the conversation beside you.

“-depending on how much your boss is willing to pay. Timeliness like that is going to be extra,” The woman spoke. 

“Money is not an issue, trust me,” The associate assured.

“Well then,” The woman responded, sounding pleased, “1.5 for the weapons and an extra 1 for the time bump. Do we have a deal?”

There was a pause, a consideration. Your heart sped up more than it was already racing. Weapons. An arms deal that Kingpin would no doubt use to spread onto the streets, to put a tighter noose around the neighborhoods he already kept under his thumb. And over two million dollars just for weapons? This was the biggest deal you’d seen up close. This could plunge New York into a deeper chaos than it already was.

“An even 2 and we have a deal,” The associate managed out, his tone taut.

“Then I will see you next week. And your boss had better be there, or the deal’s off,” The woman spoke with finality. And then there was silence, nothing but the waltz and the normal clamor of the gala.

Pulling back, you turned your gaze up to Bucky, whose gaze burned down on you with a certain clarity to his blue eyes. 

“Got it?” He mumbled. You nodded, your eyes wide with excitement. 

Smoothly, Bucky led you right off of the dance floor, offering his arm to you. You took it, making sure the two of you were walking in the direction opposite the associate. When you were mixed enough in the crowd, you spoke quietly, your tone flooded with vigor.

“Sometime next week, two million for an arms deal,” You informed. Bucky let out a sharp breath, his gaze forward just like yours as the two of you walked.

“A trade that big…”

“I know,” You whispered in response, your heart thundering. You stopped walking, pulling Bucky to look at you, “I could figure out a day, time, and place. Then, together we could crash their party with an army of SWAT and CIA hiding out nearby. We could keep two mill worth of weapons off the streets and put away Kingpin for a while.”

Bucky turned his gaze from you, his jaw clenched. You furrowed your brows up at the man, you were so sure he would be all over this mission. So why did he have that look in his eye? 

Without looking down at you, Bucky finally spoke, “Like I said, there’s no we. I’m taking you back to the apartment and that’s where you’re gonna stay until this is over.”

You flinched back, so struck by his sudden change in demeanor that a shot of pain went through your chest. How could he be so cold after what happened on that dance floor? You couldn’t have been the only one to feel that…

“I don’t understand,” You breathed, indignation rising in your chest, “Don’t you want to take out Kingpin?”

“I do,” Bucky responded, finally looking down to you with that cold, shut-off look in his gaze that you knew all too well, “But not with you. You’re going home.”

He let go of you and turned, walking towards the exit of the gala. Sputtering, you followed after him, storming behind him into the brisk night. 

“Are you kidding me?” You exclaimed as he gave the valet his ticket and they ran off to grab his car, “What happened to working together? This is my mission, Bucky and I’m not just going to give up on it.”

Bucky turned on you, his gaze boiling with something that wasn’t quiet anger, but felt a lot like it, “I don’t want your help. I don’t need your help. Stay out of this one.”

You could see the valet bringing up the car and you knew that once we were inside, he would shut down. This was your last chance. 

“Whether you want my help or not, you are getting it! It is my mission to keep you safe, Bucky and I’m not letting you do this alone.”

Bucky shook his head at you, muttering something about you being impossible as he caught his keys as the valet threw them to him. He sauntered up to the car, opening the door and gesturing for you to get in. Cheeks hot with anger, you stormed up and got in the car, adjusting your dress as he shut the door and walked around to the driver’s seat.

Just as you predicted, the ride back to the apartments was silent. 

You knew what he was doing. He thought this was too dangerous, and he didn’t want you involved. That night in his apartment, you had seen how guarded he was to keep people from getting close. That dance, that had pushed the line and now he was not going to let you get into this mission. Frustration boiled up within you, and halfway through the drive, you finally exploded.

“This is bullshit!” You suddenly exclaimed, and you caught the way Bucky’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“We’re not doing this,” He muttered.

“Like hell we aren’t,” You fired back, turning to look at him even if he kept his eyes on the road, “I know why you’re banning me from this mission and I get it, I do. But-”

“You don’t know anything,” Bucky cut in, his voice low and almost menacing. 

You laughed without humor, slowly losing your control, “You are impossible, impossible!”

Turning forward again, you raked your hands through your hair, “You are so difficult. One day you’re gonna need someone, and if you keep shoving people that care for you away, you’re gonna have no one!”

The car screeched to a sudden halt.

Your stomach dropped as you looked around the surprisingly quiet street, your heart thudding.

“What are you-”

“Get out.” Bucky gritted.

Your heart sank instantly. You looked over at him in astonishment, your eyes wide, “What?”

“Get. Out.” Bucky repeated, not even looking at you, “Walk home.”

“That’s like four miles from here, and I’m in heels!” You exclaimed. Bucky’s jaw tightened.

“You’re CIA, you’ll figure it out.”

Your heart slammed in your chest, and the words you had spit at him moments prior burned in your chest. You had crossed a line, and you knew it. You felt it, “Bucky, I’m sorry. I–”

“Get out of this car before I pull you out myself.” There was hurt in his eyes, and it made you want to die.

You had both said things to hurt the other, had both wounded each other. 

As you stepped out of the car and into the night air, you realized that people could only be hurt by someone who held at least a part of them. And as you shut your door and Bucky peeled away into the night, you felt a piece of you go with him. 

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head and pulled out your phone. You were already searching up a ride to take you to your apartment, but you walked as you did it. The cool night air was refreshing in a way, and you let out a long sigh, putting your phone down and looking around at the near-empty streets. 

What had gone so wrong?

And so, you decided against calling a ride. Instead, you turned into a nearby, warm-looking bar and sat, drinking away your sorrows and working up the courage to make the long, lonely walk home.

|||

You were within a half-mile of your apartment, and you still hadn’t sorted through the storm in your mind.

 All you knew was that this was more than a mission, and it had been for a long while. 

“I gave you one job, and you couldn’t even accomplish it. One simple job.”

Your feet stalled, your head suddenly going quiet. You knew that voice. And, as you took one step closer to the alley that it poured out of and peered inside, what you saw confirmed it.

Kingpin. 

In your muddled haze of a walk, you’d forgotten that one of Kingpin’s cover businesses was on the way back to your apartment. Now here you were, just around the corner of the mobster himself. Your eyes took in his massive frame hovering over a quivering man. A man that looked awfully familiar…

You managed to stifle your gasp as you recognized it as the man that gave Kingpin up to you and Bucky when he’d broken into Bucky’s apartment.

“I’m s-sorry boss, there was two of ‘em. I was lucky to make it out alive,” The man stammered. Kingpin hummed.

“You’re right, that is lucky,” He grabbed the man by his collar and hoisted him off of his feet, easily holding him in mid-air, “So tell me, what exactly did you give up to them to save yourself?”

“N-nothing boss! I would never give you or the operation up, never! I’m loyal,” The man pleaded.

You should go. You should hurry past and keep walking. But you just couldn’t, not when the man himself was standing right there and he might give up information on the arms deal you’d caught wind of. 

Kingpin set the man back onto his feet and smoothed out the man’s collar, “I believe you.”

The man nearly sobbed, “Thank you boss, thank you.”

“But just an insurance policy,” Kingpin said, then motioned with one hand into the darkness of the alley. Two burly guards stepped forward, armed to the teeth. 

“Kill him,” Kingpin spoke smoothly, then stepped back and held his hands together as the man begged and pleaded. Your heart thundered in your chest as the gunshot from one of the guards into the man rang through you, making you flinch slightly. 

When the job was done, Kingpin walked up to his guards, “Filch reported back from the gala. Said he got the deal moved up to next Saturday. Make sure the streets stay quiet. We can’t let it get out.”

“Sure thing, boss,” The guard nodded.

Next Saturday, that gave you eight days. A smile tugged onto your lips and you were just about to move past the alley when a set of burly, vile hands closed around your shoulders. 

“Well look what we’ve got here, a little birdie listening in.” The man purred, and your stomach sank to the floor. 

You had to get away, and you had to do it now. You thrashed against the man’s hold, slipping your hand towards where you’d hidden a small but lethal knife. Kingpin couldn’t know that you’d heard. He couldn’t know. Your hand was inches from the knife when another one of Kingpin’s men came around the corner and grabbed your wrists in a bruising grip, yanking them in front of you. 

“Hello there, pretty bird,” He greeted, and together the two men began to drag you into the alley. Sudden, blinding panic slammed into you and you knew instantly what you had to do. 

If you pulled a weapon and beat the shit out of these guys like you knew you could, Kingpin would know you’d heard him and were someone to be worried about. Your best chance at making it out of this not only alive, but with the deal still set for next Saturday, you had to play dumb. You had to be a regular citizen, an innocent bystander scared of getting mugged. 

And so you did.

You turned your anger into fear that wasn’t totally falsified, and you thrashed in the men’s grips.

“Please, let me go!” You begged, “You can take my money, my wallet, anything you want! Please!”

They’d gotten you into the alley by now, and darkness wrapped around you as Kingpin himself heard your cries. He paused, looking back at you and tilting his head curiously. Your pulse thundered so fast that you thought you’d faint. 

“What’s going on here?” Kingpin asked, slowly walking up to you, towering over you even when he was a few feet away.

“Caught this pretty lady walking by, looking like she wanted to come say hello,” One of the men presented.

The smell of the alley nearly made you gag, the fabric of your dress already soiled at the bottom from the puddles of unknown liquid. Real fear was pulsing through you, and you let it. You shoved down the instincts drilled into you from your time in the CIA and let yourself be a citizen, a bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Please, you can have my jewelry, my money, anything you want,” You insisted, your eyes filling with tears that weren’t entirely fake. 

“We’re not muggers,” Kingpin responded, his tone curious as he took you in, “What are you doing out here all alone, little bird?”

“My Uber canceled on me and I had to walk home from my party, please I don’t know what’s going on!” You trembled out. 

Kingpin studied you closely, then tilted his head and said to the men holding you, “Search her,”

Panic was constricting your chest, and you shivered as the men began patting you down. You had to clench your firsts to keep from breaking one of their noses when one stayed a little longer than necessary on your breasts. There was a small breath of relief when they both stood back, having found none of your hidden weapons.

“She’s clean.”

Kingpin cracked a half smile and reached forward. You flinched back as much as the men holding you would allow, but that wasn’t enough. He grabbed ahold of one of your fists, raising it up to inspect. He looked back up at you, his gaze amused.

“You’re angry,” Kingpin mused, a smile ticking onto his lips, “You’ve got more fight in you then you’re letting on.” “Well ladies with fight who are dragged into alleyways don’t usually last long, do they?” You managed out, your eyes daring to meet his. To your surprise, he laughed.

“Let her go, boys. We’ve terrified her enough.” 

You almost sobbed in relief when the men holding you let go. It worked. He was letting you go, he didn’t know. He didn’t-

That’s when you made your first and only mistake. You let your eyes travel the alley for a moment. But that moment, no matter how short, was enough. You saw the dead body of the man who had just been shot. 

And Kingpin knew it.

He glanced back towards the body, then slowly back to you. 

“Oh little bird, why’d you have to go and do that? I was really starting to like you,” He sighed.

Terror like you’d never known gripped you suddenly. Dread, real and cold pierced into your belly. You began to shake your head.

“No, no please I won’t tell anyone. I didn’t see anything. I didn’t-”

His massive hand gripped your jaw, cutting you off. You trembled terribly as he held your jaw and just peered at you, seeming to test you.

Finally, finally, he said, “I believe you.”

You sighed, but barely had a moment to breathe when he repeated those damned words from before, “But just as an insurance policy,”

He stepped back, letting you go and then gesturing to his men.

“Rough her up. Don’t kill her, just show her what’s gonna happen if she does decide to tell,” Kingpin stepped back into the dark alley, a smile starting on his lips, “Which I don’t think she will. Good night, little bird.”

“Wait,” You shook, glanced around at his goons who now surrounded you, “Wait, please,”

You had taken beatings before, you could do this. You could do this.

“Boss’s orders,” One shrugged, then crashed his fist into your jaw.

Then the onslaught began, and you let it happen. You let them beat you, let them kick you so hard you thought ribs cracked, let them bust your lip and bruise your cheek. You could have them all dead in moments, but you let it happen. You’d made it this far without blowing the mission to hell, you couldn’t give yourself away now. 

So you stayed there on the alley floor, and you took it.

|||

By the time you finally made it to your apartment and stumbled up the stairs, you could barely stand.

Your head was spinning as you struggled to get your keys into the door. By the time you finally did, you shouldered your way in and didn’t even bother closing the door. You could barely think, barely see, barely feel anything besides the pain.

You’d taken worse beatings, sure, but it didn’t make this one hurt any less. Your breathing was labored as each breath made shooting pain pierce through your rib cage. Your dress was ripped and bloody and covered in filth from the alley floor. All you could taste was blood from the lip one of the men had split, and you were sure that if anyone were to see you, you’d look more like a walking corpse than anything else.

You stumbled over to your kitchen bar, gripping onto the surface for stability as you dropped your phone and clutch onto it. Your legs trembled from the effort of standing, and you didn’t even bother to switch the light on considering that would require more walking. All you wanted was to gather your strength, make it to your bathroom, and get all of this blood off of you. 

Then you’d sleep for as long as your body would let you.

At least, that was the plan until there was a knock on your slightly open door. 

You didn’t even have the strength to speak as the person pushed open the door and walked a few steps into your dark, silent apartment.

“Y/N, I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to right now, but…” Bucky paused, and the sound of his voice nearly made you sob. More than anything, more than even a bath or sleep, you wanted him to hold you. You were too tired to question the impulse.

Bucky sighed, and you could practically hear the indecision in his tone, “I turned around as soon as I forced you out, but I couldn’t find you. I’ve been pacing the entire night waiting for you to come back. I overreacted and…and I’m sorry.”

He’d gone back for you. He’d looked for you. 

Your heart burned, and tears you didn’t fight worsened your already blurry vision.

You wanted to turn and run to him, you wanted to hold him and tell him that it was alright, that you were sorry too. But you couldn’t. If you let go of this counter, you’d collapse, and you knew that if you hit this floor, you weren’t getting back up tonight. 

“You were just trying to help me, and I have such a hard time taking help and an even harder time letting people in and,” Bucky stopped with a sigh, cutting off his rant, “I’m stumbling through this, could you please just turn around and say something?”

If you weren’t on the brink of passing out, you’d laugh. 

Bucky let out a frustrated huff, “I’m apologizing here, are you even listening?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but blood came out instead and you let out a short cough. 

“Fine,” Bucky gritted, clearly trying to hold back his emotion, “I’ll just…leave you be.”

Panic disrupted your pain and you managed to brace your weight with one hand on the counter and turn towards where Bucky was already walking towards your door. He couldn’t leave. You needed him.

“Bucky,” You strangled out, your voice exhausted, “W-wait,”

Bucky froze, his gaze turning back to you with his brows furrowed. That’s when the light of the hallway broke upon you, and his eyes widened in horror as he saw the blood and dirt and bruises. 

You heard him say your name like a vow, but then the world began to spin and you were collapsing. 

You barely felt the thud of the floor as you slammed against it, your body bloody and broken and giving up for the night. You heard the pounding of footsteps, felt the floor tremble as Bucky slid to his knees beside you. His hands were so gentle, so heart-breakingly gentle, as he lightly touched your bruised cheek. You watched through a blurred gaze as he kneeled over you, his jaw tight and his eyes wild. 

“You’re okay, doll, I got you. I got you,” Bucky promised, ever so tenderly pulling your broken body into his lap. He cradled your head with his hand, his eyes sweeping over you to take in the extent of your injuries.

“Shit,” He swore, shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”

“Not your fault,” You managed, a tear slipping down your cheek.

Bucky shook his head, his jaw clenched so tight that you saw his muscles ticking. His breaths were shallow as he caressed a finger down your cheek before gathering you in his arms as gently as he could. You groaned in pain as he stood, holding you close to himself with ease. But even despite the pain, he was holding you, and that was something you never thought you’d feel again.

“I know baby, I know,” He whispered, his words soothing you through the pain. He carried you out of your apartment, careful to close the door before carrying you into his place. You felt your consciousness slipping now that you were safe. You actually had never felt safer than when you were here, in his arms. 

Bucky set you down on his counter, the cool material taking the edge off of the aching of your body. Before he could clean you up or bandage anything, Bucky stood close to you, his hand staying on your cheek. You leaned into it, knowing you wouldn’t have if you weren’t half-asleep right now.

“Doll, I need you to look at me,” Bucky urged, a cold, ferocious tone to his voice that you didn’t think was for you. You managed to pry your eyes open and clash your gaze with his. In it was a cold fury, “Who did this to you?”

“Kingpin’s men,” You mumbled, and Bucky stiffened, “I caught…word of the deal, but he…he saw me. Only way to…to not blow it was to…to-”

“Play the bystander,” Bucky finished for you, and you nodded. Bucky shook his head, “You stupid, brave girl.”

You managed a smile, but the movement pulled at the split in your lip and made you wince. 

“You can sleep now, doll. I’ve got you,” Bucky whispered. You nodded, letting your eyes flutter closed. You felt his hand caress your cheek, his fingers lingering on your skin.

Then, in the near dark of sleep, Bucky let out a defeated sigh.

“Oh darling,” He sighed, then there was a press of a kiss to your brow and whispered words against your skin, “How the hell am I supposed to let you go when this is all over?”

|||

“Bucky?”

Your voice rang through Bucky’s apartment, amusement heavy in your tone. He hummed in response, his back to you as he slaved away at his small stove.

Before you already sat a fresh coffee, eggs, toast, and fruit. You couldn’t help but smile. The movement pulled at your healing lip, but it didn’t hurt anymore.

“It’s been two days. You don’t have to keep apologizing,” You called out. Bucky turned around to you, holding a pan in one hand.

“I’m just making breakfast,” He tried, but you just raised an eyebrow at him. With a sigh, Bucky set down the pan, and walked over to the counter, settling his hands down on the other side of where you sat.

“Y/N, you didn’t see what I did that night,” Bucky mumbled, not meeting your gaze, “If you could have seen how you looked, all that blood…”

Your heart strung in your chest. You slept nearly an entire day after the incident, and then spent the next day being fussed over by Bucky. You had a few bruised ribs and some nasty shiners, but nothing serious luckily. In all that time, the two of you had avoided the subject of that night besides the both of you apologizing to the other profusely.

“Buck, listen to me,” You whispered, his pained gaze finally rising to yours, “That was a heated night, we both did and said things we didn’t mean. We apologized for that, it’s behind us. But what happened to me in that alley,”

You paused hesitating only a moment before you threw caution to the wind and reached across the counter, grabbing his hand. His metal hand. His eyes widened a fraction and something changed in his gaze, something that made your heart miss a step.

“What happened to me in that alley was not your fault. That one was all me,” You insisted. Bucky squeezed your hand, the cool metal soothing your skin.

“But if I had just kept you in the car, if I hadn’t overreacted like that-”

“Then we wouldn’t know when the deal was going down,” You reasoned, “And if I were you, I would have kicked me out of the car too.”

Bucky let out a low laugh, shaking his head. His thumb ran across your skin absentmindedly, making your mind muddle, “Fine.”

You raised your eyebrows, a smile dancing on your lips “So does that mean we can move on? Not that I mind you making me breakfast.”

“Don’t push your luck, doll,” Bucky warned, a smile tugging at his lips. Letting go of your hand, he walked around the counter and into his living room, walking over to his coffee table where two files sat. You swiveled around on the barstool, watching him curiously.

As if he felt your gaze, Bucky spoke again, “While you were getting your beauty sleep in, I found where the arms deal is going down. So, if we’re gonna crash that party, we better start planning.”

A thrill went through you, and you sat up straighter. You watched as he turned and walked back to you with the files in his hand. Sure enough, he handed you one of them. You opened the front, seeing the page filled with information on Kingpin, his empire, and the arms deal. You looked up at Bucky with wide, bright eyes.

“We?” You taunted. Bucky rolled his eyes, grabbing the front of your file.

“I can still take this back,” He warned. You smiled, pulling it back towards you and out of his grasp. His grumpy demeanor didn’t scare you, nor did it frustrate you like it did before. 

“Too late,” You said sweetly, looking up at him as he stood before your seated frame. He shook his head at you, a half smile he tried to hide on his lips as he stepped back. 

“Alright CIA,” Bucky announced, flipping open his file, “Show me what you got.”

|||

It was Saturday night, and the air was thick with anticipation. 

You and Bucky sat in his car, staking out the trainyard where the arms deal was set to be going down. The walkie set before you crackled to life.

“How’s it looking?” Sam Wilson asked. You smiled at the sound of his voice, happy to have him here. Once you briefed him on what was happening, he just had to have a piece of it.

“Nothing so far,” You replied, your eyes sweeping across the darkened yard packed with parked trains, “We’ve still got some time, though.”

“I have RedWing watching from the skies, so I’ll keep you posted,” Sam informed.

“I hate that damn thing,” Bucky grumbled. You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing.

“What was that?” Sam asked. 

“Nothing,” You answered, putting your hand over Bucky’s mouth just as he’s about to repeat his statement, “Tell RedWing we said thank you!”

As soon as the radio went quiet, Bucky pulled off your hand, staring at you in indignation. 

“You are getting too comfortable with me,” He gritted. You shrugged, trying not to look too smug.

“Someone’s gotta keep you in line,” You quipped. Bucky was grumbling under his breath about something, and you were just about to ask him about it when something caught your eye in the distance. You sat up, pointing towards the left side of the yard.

“There,” You announced, your tone serious, “You see it?”

Bucky leaned forward, following the direction you were pointing. He nodded, reaching forward and grabbing the walkie.

“Sam, two SUVs rolling in. You got ‘em?” 

“I see them,” Sam responded, his voice all business, “Looks like it's the dealers. The weapons are probably stashed in one of the train cars somewhere. I’ll run a scan, you guys get out there.”

“Will do, comms going in,” Bucky replied.

The two of you slipped the comm links into your ears, checking your respective guns before exiting the car. You both jogged towards the first train car parked in the massive yard, getting cover as fast as possible.

“Be advised, the dealers have associates fanning out through the trainyard.” Sam’s voice crackled through the comm.

“Copy,” You spoke softly, your back pressed against the train, “We’ll take care of it.”

Looking over to Bucky, you nodded once at him before he led the way, gun raised as he cleared the corner. The two of you worked systematically through the yard. Sweeping out slowly in search of the associates. This place was a maze, making it ideal for deals like this. If you wanted a chance at taking the op down, you had to get these guards out.

You and Bucky paused at a break in the train, and this time you led as you inched forward and checked the corner. Seeing a guard standing watch at the corner, you pulled back and looked at Bucky. Without even having to say a word, you and Bucky worked together as if you’d been doing it for years. 

You crouched down, holstering your gun and slipping out a knife. You took a beat to breathe before you slid forward, around the corner. The noise made the guard swivel her head, but she made the mistake of not looking down. With the deadly sharp knife, you made it to her feet before she noticed you.

Then, you whistled. A quiet, simple tone. With furrowed brows, she looked down to see you, crouched by her feet with a knife. Her brows rose and she opened her mouth to alert someone, but Bucky was on her, his hand around her mouth. That’s when you struck, slicing the tendon at the back of her heel. 

Bucky’s hand muffled her scream as she dropped, and you stood in response, landing a killer blow across her temple and knocking her out. When the scuffle was over, the trainyard was silent. With a breathless smile, you looked up to Bucky.

“We make a pretty good team,” You whispered. He shot you a pointed look.

“I don’t do teams.”

You followed him as walked past the downed guard, a smirk tugging at your lips, “That’s right. You’re a lone wolf.”

Bucky stopped in his gait, nearly making you run into him. He turned and shot a glare at you, one that let you know you were getting under his skin. You held your hands up, showing him you were backing off the subject. He shook his head at you and kept walking. 

“You do make a good team,” Sam intervened, making you smile triumphantly.

“Sam, I swear-” Bucky began, but you darted up, covering his mouth with your hand to silence him. He saw the guard rounding the corner a second after you did. Luckily, the guard hadn’t seen you.

Not yet, at least.

Thinking quickly, Bucky grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you up into the opening of a nearby, darkened train car. You landed inside silently and turned, waiting for Bucky who jumped in a second later. Swiveling his gaze around, he noticed the same problem you did. 

The car was full of weapons. The weapons.

Not only did this endanger the both of you should the deal start soon, it also left little room for you to hide. Bucky solved that issue swiftly as he turned and urged you against a stack of explosives, his body pressed against yours instantly, caging you into the darkness and making sure the two of you were invisible.

Or, you realized with a start, making sure you were invisible. 

You could see just far enough to look up and see Bucky peering down at you. His body was against yours, and his face was so near to yours that you could move half an inch and your lips would be touching. His pine and whiskey scent washed over you, intoxicating you, making you forget for a moment where you were. 

Bucky seemed to do the same as his hand moved from beside your hand and he swept a thumb against your cheek. Lightning scattered across your skin where he touched, and you nearly forgot how to breathe. 

You wanted to kiss him. You needed to kiss him. 

Bucky’s eyes were darting between your lips and gaze, and your heart thundered in your chest. You were sure he could feel it with your bodies pressed so tightly together, and the uptick of the edge of his lips told you he did. Your lips itched in anticipation, burning even as they were kept apart from his. 

Bucky’s hand moved from your cheek down to rest against your throat, just as it did that day in your kitchen all those months ago. You knew that he did it to get a better feel of your pulse, and your cheeks heated in response. His lips were nearly touching yours and his hand was on your neck and you thought you might faint.

He was totally in control of you, and he knew it.

With a half-smirk that made your knees nearly buckle he whispered, “Do I always make you this nervous?”

You wanted to banter back, to shoot a petty insult at him, but you couldn’t think of anything but his lips on yours. You wanted it so badly, and you could tell Bucky did too because the hand that wasn’t on your throat was clenched tightly, as if he was restraining himself. You nudged your chin up a fraction, stopping just short of his lips, leaving the decision up to him. Bucky moved, and when his lips were almost touching yours-

“I found the weapons,” Sam’s voice poured out of RedWing, who sat hovering right in front of you and Bucky. 

You and Bucky jolted apart, the coast clear from the guard and the both of you coughing or clearing your throat.

“What?” Sam asked, his tone taunting, “Did I interrupt something?”

“Sam, if RedWing doesn’t fly away I’m gonna break it,” Bucky threatened lowly. 

“What, are you mad that he’s c-”

Bucky lunged for RedWing, who turned and flew away just in time. You couldn’t help but smile, struggling to hold in your laughter as Bucky turned and shook his head, clearly wound up. When he saw the look on his face he pointed a finger in your direction.

“Not a word,” He commanded. 

“Yes sir,” You teased, shoving his shoulder lightly as you passed him to inspect the weapons. What you missed as you peered into the weapons crates was the way Bucky smiled at you as you passed, a real smile unlike any of the one’s he’d given since the 40’s.

“Look at all this,” You breathed, inspecting box after box of weapons of all sorts. 

“And there’s at least six more cars just like it,” Sam informed over the comm. You shook your head, picking up a rather nasty looking bomb. 

“We better get a move on, Kingpin’s bound to be here at any moment.” Your words caught Bucky’s attention and he nodded, walking towards the opening of the train car and hopping out. Wordlessly, you followed. As you jumped out of the car, Bucky grabbed you by the hips and slowed down your descent, setting you safely on the ground. His hands burned on your waist, and that tension from before returned in full force.

“I had that, you know,” You informed, raising a brow at him. He just smirked.

“I know.”

Then let you go and walk away, finally letting you take in a breath. As you followed him, you shook your head. 

This was going to be a long night.

|||

It took twenty more minutes for you and Bucky to clear out the guards without any of them reporting back a disturbance.

And, right on time, Kingpin and his men showed up

You watched as the massive, hulking man sauntered up to the center of the trainyard where the dealers, led by the woman from the gala, stood waiting. You stood pressed against a train nearby with Bucky against the one across from you. Overhead, Sam was waiting for your signal to move in. 

It would be your job to make sure the SWAT team rolling up outside had enough time to infiltrate and secure the weapons that they could. In the meantime, you, Bucky, and Sam would ambush the deal, taking out as many operatives as you could and securing Kingpin and the Dealer. 

But right now, your mind wasn’t on the plan. No, you were stuck staring at the goons who waltzed up with Kingpin. You recognized three of them as the men who pummeled you that night after the gala. Noticing your clenched jaw, Bucky followed your gaze to the men. Understanding broke over him and you glanced over to see a certain fury flood his gaze. He looked back to you, his gaze clashing with yours.

“Which ones?” Was all he whispered, low enough so he couldn’t be heard by anyone except for the comm link. You heard the edge in his voice, and maybe it was wrong, but you loved it.

“The two on his right and second to the left.”

Bucky nodded, staring down the three men. He looked back to you, “You want them?”

A smile ghosted your lips. You could see the restraint in the way his shoulders were held tensely and the whitening of his knuckles on his gun. He wanted them, but he wanted you to have the choice first.

And you fell in love, right there. It began with the dance, but it was done now. There was no going back.

“Share?” You offered, and Bucky’s lips tipped up in a smile.

The two of you turned your attention back to the deal, straining enough to hear the conversation flowing from Kingpin and the Dealer who met in the middle.

“I’m not seeing my weapons,” Kingpin noted, his hands clasped before him. The woman smiled.

“The money first. Then you’ll get your weapons.”

Your hands tightened around your gun, waiting for Kingpin’s next move. He surveyed the Dealer before nodding, turning back to his man and motioning. That was it, this was your chance. 

“Now,” You whispered, and instantly the sound of bullets from somewhere to the right blasted through the air.

Sam’s distraction.

The Dealer and Kingpin snapped their gazes towards the sound. 

“What the hell-”

That’s when you and Bucky swept in, guns raised and bullets flying before the group knew what was happening. Chaos broke out, but every time someone strayed from the center to flee into the trains, Sam was there to guide them back. 

The scene was a flurry of bullets and knives, of yelling and screams, but in the end it was you and Bucky who were left standing amongst the group of downed guards. Of course, there were a few left standing besides Kingpin and the Dealer, one of which happened to be one of the men who beat the shit out of you after the gala.

You did not miss how one of the other men who’d beat you wasn’t just unconscious nearby, but his neck was twisted at a wrong angle with Bucky standing nearby. The last of three was lying somewhere in the mess, shot and bleeding out. 

Silence settled over the scene as Sam slammed down on the top of one of the train cars, gun raised. Bucky stood by the Dealer, and you by Kingpin. The two criminals stood silently, their hands raised in submission. 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” You announced, keeping your gun pointed at Kingpin. He snapped his gaze to you, and surprise flickered through it followed by a sort of…admiration that made your skin crawl, “A SWAT team is closing in on the weapons now, so the two of you are going to call off anyone else you have stationed and come with us, without a fight preferably.”

“Little bird,” Kingpin greeted, making your pulse spike. You didn’t want to look at him, but you did anyway, and you hated the way you shook as you did, “It’s not often I’m surprised, but I gotta say, you’ve got me speechless here.”

You gritted your teeth, but it was Bucky who called out “Clearly not speechless enough,”

Kingpin laughed, seeming almost at ease. He started to lower his hands and you took a step closer, your gun held strong before you.

“Keep your hands where I can see them!” You ordered. 

“Okay, okay,” Kingpin complied, raising his hands up, “But I just want to say, you really shoulda thought this out more.”

You furrowed your brows, “Wh-”

You couldn’t even get the words out when three of the nearby train car doors slid open, and guards poured out. Your heart shot into your throat, and you didn’t even have the chance to shoot when twenty guns were pointed at you and twenty more at Bucky. You shot a nervous glance towards Bucky, who shared the same look. 

“Sam, go,” You whispered, and he flew off without another word. He needed to get the SWAT team in here now, or you and Bucky wouldn’t make it long. On the bidding of Kingpin’s army, you and Bucky set your guns down slowly. 

“Alright,” Kingpin announced, sighing as if this were just another Saturday night, “Now here’s what’s really gonna happen.”

He walked up to you, and off to the side you saw Bucky immediately lunge forward towards him. He couldn’t make it far before Kingpin pulled out a gun of his own and pointed it at your head.

Bucky froze.

“Leave her alone,” Bucky ordered, his voice dark and menacing. 

“Now it’s getting fun,” Kingpin mused, ignoring Bucky completely and stepping closer to you. You clenched your fists to hide the way they shook. 

“You’re gonna hop up to this train car here and get my weapons out, make sure they’re what I wanted. Then, you’re gonna call off the SWAT team, and we’re gonna walk out of here,” Kingpin said simply. 

“Not happening,” You gritted out.

“Funny, I don’t remember giving you a choice,” Kingpin sighed before grabbing your arm and looking to the dealer, “Which one has the weapons?”

She smirked, pointed at the train car nearby Bucky. It was torture to be dragged past him and not be able to touch him. Not for lack of trying, either. As you went by, he made a break for you, shouting your name. It took eight men to restrain him.

Eight men, that’s how many it took to hold him steady. 

And, you figured he was holding back since there was a gun to your head. 

“Oh, and package the soldier up. I want to have a few…words with him later.” Kingpin ordered, and panic blinded you. You reared back helplessly, struggling against his iron grip as you had to watch the men try to subdue Bucky and get him into handcuffs. 

Your panicked gaze met his, and all you could do was pray Sam was close with the SWAT team. You couldn’t rely on that, though. Kingpin was going to kill you and then Bucky.

You could die, so long as Bucky didn’t.

A plan began to spin in your head as Kingpin shoved you up into the train car. 

“Now, grab a gun from in there and show it to me,” Kingpin ordered, but then gave you a knowing smile, “And don’t try anything, or I’ll have a bullet in your boyfriend’s head.”

“On our way!” Sam called through the comm, but you were running out of time. The men were already hauling away Bucky, and you had to act fast. 

Turning into the dark train car full of weapons, you tried to lift a box and pretended to fail. Turning to look down at Kingpin, who still stood on the ground, you gritted, “I can’t get it. It’s too heavy.”

Maybe it was his built-in trust of you from your encounter that night after the gala, or maybe it was because he thought you were under too much emotional duress, but he believed you.

He bought it, and he hauled himself into the train car for everyone to see.

“You better not be-”

Before he could speak again or anyone could react, you’d pulled the bomb you picked earlier off of your belt and pulled the pick. Gasps and shouts rang out through the yard as you held the live explosive in your hand and made sure you stood between Kingpin and the exit of the train car.

“Y/N NO!” Bucky shouted, his voice cracking. With a bare pull of his arms, the cuffs on his wrists snapped and he made a move for you. 

A handful of guns were pressed into Bucky’s head, stopping him cold. In response, you held the motion-induced explosive tighter and pushed it further towards Kingpin, who had backed as far as he could against a stack of crates. Terror was clear across his face, which brought a sick sort of delight.

“You shoot him, and I drop it,” You announced, and once again the yard plunged into silence. 

Anyone who could see the situation knew you had the upper hand. If anyone killed you, the bomb would hit the ground and kill Kingpin. If Kingpin tried anything on you, you’d drop the bomb and kill the both of you. You were locked in a stalemate, and now you were going to win.

“Now, put your guns down.” Your voice rang through the trainyard, but no one acted. You lifted your brows and nodded, turning your head towards Kingpin. Panic flared in his eyes and he shouted, “GUNS DOWN! Put your damn guns down!”

You turned your head and watched as everyone did as they were told. Your eyes snagged on Bucky, who had a desperate look on his face. He shook his head, but you ignored his silent pleas. 

“You, the Dealer and all your forces are going to stand down. You’re going to wait patiently for SWAT to get here,” You lifted your chin, “Or I’ll drop this and we both go.”

“You wouldn’t,” Kingpin stuttered. 

“You really want to call my bluff? Go ahead, end your criminal empire in one moment of stupidity,” You dared. 

Kingpin took a moment to survey your gaze before he shook his head, “You’re crazy.”

You didn’t miss a beat.

“The things you do for love.”

That’s when you heard the rustling of gear and looked over to see the SWAT team storming in, guns raised and shouting at the Dealer and all of the assorted criminals throughout the yard. Taking in a trembling breath, you looked back at Kingpin.

“Game over, little bird,” You lifted your chin, and Kingpin’s eyes flared.

“This isn’t over,” He assured.

“Sure it isn’t,” You replied easily. Well, as easily as you could with a live bomb in your grasp.

You heard the clanging of the train car and looked over to see Bucky inside, his eyes deadly and his jaw clenched tightly as he grabbed Kingpin.

“Out,” Bucky growled, throwing him to the ground outside. Officers were on him instantly, but Bucky wasn’t paying attention, instead, he was on you. 

“Bucky, stay-” You warned with a trembling voice, stepping back to keep the bomb from him. Bucky wasn’t listening to you, though, He cut you off and cupped your cheeks.

“What the hell were you thinking? You could have died!” Bucky nearly shouted, but you didn’t miss the way his voice shook. 

“He was going to take you, and I couldn’t let him do that,” You whispered, tears gathering in your eyes. 

“So you pulled a bomb on him?” Bucky pushed. A tear slipped down your cheek and Bucky wiped it away, shaking his head at you, “Don’t ever do that again, don’t ever risk your life like that for me again.”

“No promises.” Your voice was trembling badly, and your hand was clenched so tightly around the bomb that your fingers hurt, “Bucky, I’m scared.”

You heard Sam call for a bomb squad in the distance, but you didn’t tear your gaze from Bucky. He pressed his forehead to yours, “I know, baby. But you’re gonna be alright.”

“What if I drop it?” You whispered, only allowing your fear to be heard and seen from Bucky. 

“You’re not gonna drop it,” Bucky assured, reaching forward and holding the explosive over your hand.

Buck, don’t-”

He held fast, closing both of his hands around yours and the bomb, “You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”

“Sam, how long on that bomb squad?” You called out, another rogue tear burning down your cheek.

“They should be here any minute.” Sam’s reply made the tension in your chest ease slightly, and as if on command, the bomb squad came running up to the train car.

Bucky’s hands were solid around yours, and his gaze was unflinching and unafraid. He had you. That thought made your heart rate slow. He had you, he had you.

“So what do you have here?” A lady asked, jogging up and hopping into the train car, looking down at the explosive. She hummed, nodding before reaching into her kit. You looked down to watch her work, new fear ripping through you.

“No, just look at me,” Bucky ordered, making your gaze snap up to his. You nodded, doing your best to hold his gaze as the woman worked on the bomb. 

“You’ve got pretty eyes,” You murmured, the fear making your inhibitions lowered, “I don’t think I ever told you that.”

Bucky’s lips edged up into a smile, “Well, I figured you thought so considering how fast your heart was beating in that train car a few minutes ago. Or were you thinking about something other than my eyes?”

His charm worked perfectly, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Look at us,” You mused, glancing down at the bomb for a moment before looking back up to Bucky, “A few months ago you wanted to kill me, and now we’re holding a bomb I pulled to save your ass, again.”

“No, I still want to kill you sometimes,” Bucky amended, but the words held no merit. 

“Alright,” The bomb squad lady said, grabbing onto the underside of the bomb, “You can let it go now. I’ve got it.”

Your smile faded and you locked your gaze with Bucky’s again. He pulled one of his hands off and your grip on the explosive tightened. You shook your head slightly.

“It’s okay,” He murmured, nodding to you, “Let it go.”

Bucky slid his hand that was left on the bomb to yours, intertwining your fingers and slowly pulling your hand off. Before you knew it, Bucky had managed to pull your hand off the grenade. In its stead, Bucky held your hand tightly, pulling you instantly into his chest. 

You let out a shuddering sigh of relief, leaning your head on Bucky’s shoulder. Slowly he pulled back, keeping your hand in his, “Come on, let’s go.”

You nodded, your fear ebbing as the two of you jumped down from the train car. In an instant, Sam was at the two of you, nearly knocking you over with a hug. You laughed, letting go of Bucky’s hand and hugging Sam back. 

“You are insane!” Sam exclaimed, letting go of you and shaking his head, “Absolutely insane.”

You smiled, “Thanks,”

Sam laughed, shaking his head as he walked over to Bucky, “So not a compliment.”

After he checked in with Bucky he turned and faced the two of you. 

“Good work, guys. Glad to see you’re not killing each other here.” 

“Yet,” You and Bucky happened to say at the same time. 

Sam smiled, “I better be off, I’ve got a mission I left to help out here.” Pausing, he looked over to you and gestured to Bucky, “Take care of him?”

You smiled, nodding, “Always.”

The two of you said your goodbyes as Sam turned and flew off. With a long sigh, you turned and began to make your way back to Bucky’s car.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I could go for some food right now.” You announced. 

“Wait,” Bucky stopped you, grabbing your arm and pulling you around to face him, “What you said back there to Kingpin…did you mean it?”

For a moment, you considered playing dumb and asking what he meant. But you knew what he meant, and he knew you did. You had inadvertently said that you loved him, and because of the bomb situation you almost thought you’d make it out without having to confront it.

You held Bucky’s gaze that was searing into you, and suddenly you were overcome with that same sensation to kiss him as before. With him standing this close to you and after what you’d just been through together, it took all of your strength to hold back. The tension in the air between the two of you as he waited for your response was maddening.

“Well, I did nearly blow myself up for you so take that as you-”

“You are infuriating,” Bucky huffed, tugging you closer so that your body was flush against his. Your joking ended immediately, your pulse flickering wildly as his lips danced just out of reach of yours. His blue eyes were dark as he stared down at you, each of you daring the other to make the first move.

Your lips brushed against his as you spoke into the silence, “I meant it.”

And then his lips were on yours. His arm was around your waist, pulling you tight as his other tangled into your hair. This kiss had been brewing for months, and you could feel it. Lightning danced across your skin as he kissed you desperately, in a way that made your arms tighten around his neck to keep yourself from falling. He nipped at your bottom lip softly, then pulled away and moved to hold your face in his hands. 

For a long while, Bucky just stared at you with a soft smile playing on his lips. You smiled, still dazed from the kiss. 

“What?” You asked. 

He ran a thumb across your cheek tenderly, “I was just trying to think back to when things changed between us. But…but I think I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.”

Your smile widened and you surged forward, kissing him again. Pulling back, you gazed up at him with an amused glint in your eyes.

“And when you were choking me in my kitchen, threatening to kill me, that was you showing your love for me?” You asked.

Bucky’s grin turned suave and playful as he threw his arm across your shoulders and walked with you towards his car, “Well, you seemed to like it enough in that train car.”

Your cheeks heated and you scoffed, slapping his muscled chest as the two of you walked. 

“Jerk,” You laughed out, and he held you closer to him with a smile.

“I love you too.”

[lauraashley93]

I just REALLY. REALLY. Want to read angst can someone help?? Point me to ANYTHING that will hurt my feelings. It can have a happy ending.. I just wanna have my heart broke. 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃

#fanfiction #x reader #angst #supernatural #bucky x y/n #anythingtobreakmyheart. #ez x reader #angel reyes fanfiction #coco x reader

[lauraashley93]

My Hero

Summary: Doctor Sam WInchester had fallen hard for the woman living just down the hall. She was easily the most adorable and the most accident-prone creature he had ever met! Yet for all the times he came to her rescue, he was too shy to make a move. Maybe he could work up his courage, if he got just one more chance...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Sam x Reader, Doctor!Sam Winchester x You

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Garth, Dean Winchester

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, fluff

One Shot

Word Count: 3700

Author’s Notes: I swear, every time I get sick all I want is a Winchester to come and take care of me. Is that really so much to ask?? I think not! This is my very first Sam x Reader fic! I have a few more ideas rattling around for the youngest Winchester brother, but this is decent practice. For now. Enjoy!

     Bang.  Bang.  Bang.

     “Coming, coming!”  Sam pulled t-shirt over his head as he trotted to the front door.  He’d been getting ready for bed when the insistent knocking started.

     The door swung open to a very nervous young man in a Wong’s delivery uniform.  Sam recognized him from the few times he ordered from them. 

     “Hey, its Garth, right?”

     “Yeah,” he shifted on his feet, his eyes round with worry, “You’re a doctor, aren’t you?”

     Sam’s instantly shifted into his professional mode.  He was currently an attending at Lawrence General Hospital, having just moved back a year ago from L.A.  It had been an adjustment, but a welcome one.  Big city life didn’t suit Sam at all. 

     “I am.  What’s going on?’

     “I was dropping off an order down the hall to the lady in 302 and I heard this thud behind the door and now I can’t get her to answer.  I think something’s wrong.”

     Sam was already grabbing his medical bag, “Show me.”

     302.  He knew the woman who lived there.  More or less.  They kept running into each other.  He first discovered her fighting with the soap dispenser in the laundry room.  Then again when she locked herself out of the building during a thunderstorm.  And then last week when the elevator got stuck between floors.  He always seemed to be wandering by when she needed a rescue.  She was funny, smart, accident prone, and completely adorable. 

     Sam had been working up the courage to ask her out, but something always seemed to crop up.  An extra shift at the hospital or a birthday party for a colleague.  He knew it was an excuse.  For all of his professional success, Sam was, and always had been, extremely shy.

     “Y/N?”  He knocked loudly on the closed door, then tried the handle and found it locked. 

     “Alright, stand back,” he said to Garth.  In one powerful move, Sam kicked the door in, the heel of his foot landing in just the right spot to splinter the doorjamb. 

     “Damn,” Garth blew out an impressed breath, “You aren’t even wearing shoes.”

     You were laying in the foyer.  Curled on your side with your hair spread out like a halo.  A wallet sat a few inches away from outstretched fingers. 

     Sam was at your side in an instant, gingerly turning you over and searching for a pulse, “Y/N?  Can you hear me?”

     Garth hovered nearby, nerves in his voice, “Is she okay?”

     Sam ran a hand over your forehead, “She’s burning up.  Go see if you can find a washcloth and a glass of water.”

     His worry only grew when he carried you to the couch and you still didn’t come to.  He held your limp body up with one hand while he worked your hoodie off with the other, leaving you in a tank top and yoga pants.  He’d strip that off you too, if he had to.  Every inch of bare skin he touched felt like it was on fire! 

     “Why isn’t she waking up?”  Garth asked handing Sam a kitchen towel.

     “Dehydration.  With a fever this high, it can happen quick.”  Sam dipped the towel in the water filled coffee mug and bathed your face and neck.  Sure enough, his efforts were rewarded.

     You groaned, even that soft sound reverberated through your pounding head.  Everything hurt and all you wanted was to slip back into the blankness of sleep.   But it was so noisy!  Someone kept talking, like the parents in a Snoopy cartoon.  Unintelligible, insistent, and so annoying!

     Sam gently tapped your cheeks, “Y/N.  Come on, darlin.  Open your eyes for me.”

     With a bit of coaxing, you did as he asked.  Everything around you swirled and slowly came into focus.  Your head felt heavy and fell to the side, Sam was there and smiled down at you.  As a reflex, you smiled back before your fevered brain could catch up and tell you who you were looking at.

     “Hey… it’s my hero.”

     Sam chuckled in relief, “Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.”

     “You’re here.  That’s so nice… why are you here?”

     “You passed out,” he replied, pressing the cool cloth to your brow.  “Do you remember what happened?”

     You tried to search your memory, but everything was so fuzzy!  “Um, I came home from work… I was sick.  Felt really bad.  Everything hurt.  Achy and cold.  Headache.  Then I ordered soup from the place down on Main Street.  I dunno…I feel a little out of it.”

     There was a blood pressure cuff wrapped around your bicep that was inflating.  Where did that come from?  Sam was doing that doctor thing where they listen to you talk while taking vitals at the same time.   

     How did doctors do that?  Did they teach that in med school?  It seemed especially confusing to you as your thoughts kept skipping away and going down rabbit holes.

     Cool fingers felt under your jaw, pressing against swollen lymph nodes.  He always had such a gentleness about him.  Such grace.  Surprising for a man of his size, but he seemed to take such care with you.  Like you were the most rare, delicate creature in the world.

     Last week when you found yourself stuck in the elevator, it was Sam who answered your call.  He muscled open the doors single handed and lifted you up though the opening without breaking a sweat.  You were more than a little awe struck by his display of strength and chivalry.  If you’d had half a brain, you’d have invited him for coffee as a thank you.  As it was, you were preoccupied with being late to work.  A sadly missed opportunity with your handsome neighbor.

     “You came home from work, was that last night?”

     “Um, yeah.  Yes.  As if Mondays aren’t sucky enough.”

     Sam’s eyebrows rose, “That was two days ago.”

     “What?”

     “Today’s Wednesday.”

     That information had you on the move.  You sat straight up and instantly went white.  The room titled and if it weren’t for Sam’s hands steadying your shoulders, you probably would have slid right off the couch.

     “Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Not so fast,” Sam advised, forcing you to recline.

     “I gotta go call work… or… somebody.”

     “The only place you are going is to the E.R.”

     “No, I can’t go to the hospital.”

     “Y/N, listen to me.  You’re dehydrated to the point that you fainted.  Your fever is 103, that’s dangerous territory.” 

     Sam tried to be stern, but he just didn’t have it in him.  You looked so pitiful with your hair sticking to the sweat slick skin and the dark smudges under your eyes.  You were desperately sick and he wasn’t going to simply leave you without treatment.

     “I know a lot of people are scared of the doctor, but I promise I’ll be right there with you.”

     You swallowed, wincing at the feeling of knives in your throat.  “I’m not scared, I’m uninsured.  My job is new, benefits don’t kick in for thirty days.”

     Garth piped up, “You’re a doctor, can’t you just prescribe something and treat her here?”

     “It’s not that simple.  She needs to be admitted so they can get an I.V. going and get some fluids into her system.  And bring that fever under control.”

     He felt your head loll against him.  He looked down in alarm and found you’d lost consciousness again. 

     “Y/N?  Wake up, Y/N!” 

     This time no amount of effort would bring you around. 

     “Damn it,” Sam growled as he got to his feet.  He grabbed a notepad from your entry table and scribbled a list down.  “Do you know that walk-in clinic on 42nd street?”

     Garth followed him, “Yeah, I pass it on my way to work.”

     “Great.  My brother is on call there tonight, go in and ask for Dean.  Tell him it’s for me, he’ll help you.”  Sam tore off the list and thrust it into Garth’s hand, “Get everything and hurry!”

     Garth shoved the paper in his pocket, “What if they don’t believe me?  That clinic isn’t in the best part of town, junkies hassle them all the time.”

     “Dean will believe you but in case he doesn’t say Poughkeepsie.  It’s our go word, means drop everything.”

     “A secret code word, you guys must be brothers,” Garth muttered on his way out the door.

     You woke feeling warm.  Bundled up in something soft and secure.  Your eyes stayed closed as you enjoyed the luxurious feeling.  Most mornings you woke up stiff with your muscles complaining about the ancient futon you had yet to replace.  It was left over from college and the wood slats dug into your hips, but moving to a new town was expensive!  Anything like a proper mattress would have to wait until you had a few more paychecks under your belt.

     You stretched a bit, content to roll over and fall back into your dreams, but something tugged on your hand and pinched.  You frowned and tried again; it was like you were caught in a fishing net. 

     “What the hell…?”  You grumbled unhappily, determined to keep your eyes closed out of stubbornness.  You blindly felt around and found a tube and tape attached to your right hand.

     Your eyes popped open.  An I.V.?

     You weren’t in your bed.  You weren’t in your room!  Where the hell were you? 

     The dimensions matched your bedroom, but it wasn’t bare bones like yours.  This one was painted a lovely smoke grey.  Bookshelves lined one wall and a mahogany dresser matched it on the other.  The bed was the biggest you’d ever seen.  The headboard was massive and intricately carved.  The mattress was firm but yielding. 

     The bedside table housed bottles of medication, a stethoscope, a digital thermometer, and a glass of water.  You remembered being sick.  Sicker than you’d ever felt.  You remembered your boss sending you home then… nothing.  Just a blur. 

     You sat up slowly.  When the room didn’t spin, you decided to press your luck.  You pulled back the covers enough to dangle your feet over the edge.  Your toes found plush carpet.  You felt weak, but not dizzy.  And you were cold without the blankets.  Looking down you found bare legs.  You were wearing only your tank top and Wonder Woman underwear. 

     Fuck.  Where the hell are my clothes?!

     With a quick yank, you pulled the I.V. out and headed for the door. 

     “Yeah, Dean I know.  If I promise to wash and wax your car, will you get off my case?”

     “No way in hell you are waxing my Baby, do I need to remind you about Liza Raffaella in the eighth grade?”

     “Please don’t,” Sam groaned into the phone. 

     “It’s wax on, wax off.  Not wax on, go chat up a nerd girl for three hours while the wax bakes on in the sun!”

     “Sam?”

     Sam spun at the raspy voice behind him.  You were standing in the hall, your hand braced against the wall for balance.  You looked a little wobbly, but far better than you had in hours.

     “I gotta go,” he told his brother before ending the call.  “Y/N, hey.  How you feeling?”

     “Confused.  How did I get here and where are my clothes?”

     “Oh!”  Sam’s cheeks colored instantly as he grabbed a soft, woven throw from the back of an over-sized chair.  He draped it over your shoulders and ushered you to the sofa.

     “Sorry about that, your fever was sky high.  Needed to bring it down in a hurry.  Here, sit.”

     You sank down onto a couch that was just as comfortable as the bed you’d woken up in.  Sam disappeared into the kitchen then returned with a glass of ginger ale and some crackers.  He was rattling off something about Chinese takeout and your pants being in the laundry.  All the while he was fussing over you.  His long fingers found the pulse point on your wrist, and he produced a pen light from somewhere to check your pupils.

     After a few minutes, he realized you were staring at him, “Y/N?”

     “Sam, grateful that I am for your hospitality and bedside manner… I still don’t understand why I’m here.” 

     “Well, I figured it would be a better place for you to recover… with all the construction.”

     Now you were really confused, “Construction?”

     Sam rubbed the back of his neck and embarrassment turned his ears pink, “Yeah.  I ah… I kinda broke down your door.”

     “What?!”

     “You weren’t answering!  I just had a really bad feeling, and I would never have forgiven myself if something happened to you.”

     His gaze traveled your face then locked on your eyes.  “I was worried about you.”

     You looked at him, really looked.  He was beautiful, as he always was, but there was an edge of exhaustion to his features.  His five o’clock shadow was darker than you’d ever seen it.  The fine lines around his eyes and lips were etched deeper and his hazel eyes were slightly red.  Even his enviable hair was disheveled. 

     “So, you committed destruction of property to save my life?”

     “I did.”  He gave a nod, his tone teasing, “You gonna turn me in?”

     A small smile played around your lips, “Nah.  I might need your services again.  I have a habit of getting into trouble.  Nice to know I’ve got my own personal hero on call.”

     “You call, I’ll come running.”

Two Years Later:

     “That was not our first date!”

     “We spent the entire weekend curled up in my bed, it counts.”

     “I was unconscious!”

     “Not the whole time,” Sam countered, threading his fingers through yours, “Sometimes you’d wake up.  Of course, you were delirious.  You did have some of the most creative fever dreams… what was that one about the Catholic church hiding the existence of extra-terrestrials by dressing them up like the clergy?”

     “They were hiding dinosaurs, not aliens.  Tiny dinosaurs under their creepy old lady robes.  And still, not a date.  I think you’ll find most dating experts would agree with me on this.”

    “Dating experts?”

     “Your brother.”

     Sam huffed out a laugh, “Don’t be fooled by the rumors, he’s not the Casanova everyone thinks he is.”

     “I dunno, guy gets a lot of dates.”

     “First dates.  Ask him about his batting average for second dates.”

     “Oh yeah?  Got him beat, do you?”

     “Hands down.”

     Sam curled a finger under your chin and brought his lips down to meet yours.  You hummed happily as an electric spark zinged all the way down to your toes.  It was crazy that even after two years he still managed to excite you with just a touch, or a look.  You never had to doubt his feelings for you, he wore them openly and proudly.  He never missed the opportunity to hold your hand in the grocery store or to wrap his arm around your shoulders at the movies.   A kiss to the temple, a hand at the small of your back.  Every touch was filled with the warmth of the sun on a summer’s day.  Every night was filled with the heat and passion of desire that could never be sated. 

     You leaned into Sam’s side as he guided the two of you down the winding path that cut through the willows.  “So, tell me Doctor Winchester, why haven’t I been to your family’s estate before?”

     “I wouldn’t call it an estate, it’s just a few acres.”

     “I don’t care if it’s a patch of dead grass… you have horses!  Horses, Sam!  I’ve wanted to go horseback riding since I was ten.”

     “We might be able to squeeze in a lesson for you before we head home.”

     “Really?!”

     “I’ll bet you’re a natural, you’re already an expert with a riding crop,” he whispered in your ear.

     “Sam!”  You admonished him, instantly turning red, “That was a one time!”

     “Best birthday ever.  And to answer your question; you haven’t been here before because I was waiting.”

     The path curved and opened up to a decent sized pond.  A dock jutted out onto the clear, still waters and ended in an elaborate gazebo.  Painted a picturesque white and topped with a copper finial, hundreds of tiny fairy lights hung from the rafters glittering with magic and romance. 

     “Oh wow,” you breathed, following Sam down the planks.  “This is like something out of a book.  God, it’s beautiful!”

     “My parents built this place from the ground up.  Mom had this vision in her head about a pond where she could come and watch ducks.  Teach her kids to swim and fish.  So, one summer, Dad started digging.  I don’t think he even had a plan, all the neighbors thought he was crazy!  But he was stubborn and determined.  And he loved my mom more than anything.”

     You walked out to the end of the platform and leaned out on the railing.  Dragonflies danced along the surface of the water as the sun began to set and the crickets started to sing.  “He did a great job.  Did he build the gazebo too?”

     “Anniversary present,” he confirmed, joining you by the railing.  “This was my favorite spot when I was a kid.  Dean loved the garage, hanging with Dad and tearing apart trucks with the radio blasting.  I couldn’t stand the noise, so I’d come out here.  Even in the winter.”

     Suddenly, a swan flew down and landed in the middle of the water.  Graceful and noble, it glided across the water sending the slightest of ripples out in its wake.  As it turned, you could see a single black feather against the white of its tail. 

     “Oh!  I’ve never seen a swan with one black feather.”

     “He’s always had it, never could figure out why.  He showed up when I was ten and just never left.  I call him Solomon.”

     “Is it just him?  I thought swans always paired up?”  

     “Well, that’s the thing, they do have mates for life, but he showed up alone.  And I know it sounds silly, but he was mopey.  He didn’t take a lot of interest in anything; he didn’t interact with the ducks or even pay any attention to me when I tried to feed him.  He was sad.  Some animals grieve and I think he was grieving for his lost mate.”

     “Poor guy,” you murmured, watching as Sam took a packet of birdseed from his pocket and tossed a bit out on the water. 

     “When I left for college, Solomon migrated and didn’t come back in the spring.  I thought I’d seen the last of him, but then I got a call from Mom this past summer.  He was back and he brought someone with him.”

     As if on cue, a second swan swooped down and landed beside Solomon.  Pure white and just as lovely.  They looked like a postcard, gliding on the sunlit water.

     “You’re kidding!  He found another mate?  I didn’t know swans would do that!”

     “Some do, special cases.  And Solomon’s no fool, he might have been content to be alone forever, but when that right one came along, he snapped her up.”

     “That’s amazing!”  You turned to Sam with a beaming grin, but stopped short when you realized he wasn’t standing there beside you.  He was kneeling. 

     “Sam.”

     He took both of your hands in his, tipping his face back to gaze up at you with such tenderness and devotion it made your breath catch.

     “I’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time.  I knew what I wanted to do and how I wanted it to look, but the words never came.  Everything I wrote seemed inadequate.  Even the word love falls short.  It’s not enough, it’s not big enough.  Being with you is a revelation, Y/N.  You call me your hero, but baby… it’s the other way around.  You rescued me.”

     Tears had already gathered in your eyes when he pulled out a blue velvet box.  A diamond solitaire sparkled inside like a star in the sky. 

     “I don’t know if I’ll ever have the words, but I swear to show you.  To treasure you, to make your happiness my mission.  To answer your call and to love you for all my days.”

     You dropped down to your knees and tackled him.  Your arms flung around his neck, nearly knocking him over in your enthusiasm.   He caught you with a laugh and kept the two of you from tumbling off into the water.  You kissed every square inch of the face you’d loved since he first rescued you.  And you laughed.  Joy bubbled up from your heart like effervescent Champagne.

     “You astonishing,” Kiss. “Brilliant,” kiss. “Romantic,” kiss, kiss. “Beautiful,” kiss, kiss, kiss.

     “Y/N… baby…”

     “Yes?” Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss.

     His hands wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you back slightly so he could look into your eyes.  He traced the curve of your face, fondly tucking your hair behind your ear.  You were always moving, always racing towards everything in life.  It was something he loved about you, your exuberance.  Your passion!  You burned so bright, his light even on the darkest days. 

     “Will you marry me?”

     Your brow creased in confusion before you realized, he didn’t actually say the words a moment ago.  You been so excited that he never got the chance. 

     “Yes,” you nodded, your forehead coming to rest against his. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

     Sam slipped the ring onto your finger, “Will you look at that?  Perfect fit.”

     “Guess that means you’re stuck with me now.”  You shifted so that you were sitting in his lap, your hand cupped his jaw, “I should tell you up front that I tend to get into trouble, there’s a good chance that you’ll be required to rescue me from time to time.”

     “Good thing rescuing you is my second favorite activity.”

     “Second favorite?”

     “Yeah,” he murmured against the curve of your neck, “Let me show you the front runner.”

     Before long, Sam had swept you away in a haze with his deft fingers and clever tongue.  The title of Hero that you bestowed on him became a running joke through the years and then a loving nickname.  But that didn’t make it any less true.  He’d always been a hero, and now he was yours. TAGLIST @deans-baby-momma @muchamusedaboutnothing @peterpangirl21 @ficbreaks @teresa-67 @sacriceria @verytoadpapersoul @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @savspersonalproperty @deanwanddamons @jenwinchester40 @perpetualabsurdity @starryeyeseunbyul @sexyvixen7 @katsbratsupernaturalwhore @agirlwithdemonblood @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @imthedoctorlove @roonyxx @smellingofpoetryy @deanwinchesterswitch @thinkinghardhardlythinking @pink-sparkly-witchly-witch @barewithme02 @deadlynightshadeindustries @jc-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @kinderousmaster @lyarr24 @aphorism-001 @onlinecemetery @allonsy-yesiwill @myeagletoadmaker @panicking-outside-the-disco @haylie-spnfam4evr @lauraashley93 @foxyjwls007 @bluedragonflylady @foxyjwls007

[lauraashley93]

Unrequited

The most terrible loneliness is in loving someone completely, deeply and without reserve; and knowing that you are not loved that way in return.

A/N - Feedback is always welcome, let me know what you think!

Characters - Dean, Sam, Stacey (OC), Y/n

Chapter Twenty Three

"Son of a bitch!"

Dean doubled over, hyperventilating a little too dramatically. "Someone's stolen Baby. Someone's..." He straightened, his face like thunder. "I'm gonna kill' em. I'm gonna rip them limb from limb, I'm gonna..."

Leaning against the door frame, I smirked at his ridiculous behaviour. "Aren't you over-reacting a little? It's only a car." I teased.

He spun around to glare at me. "You shut your mouth." He said through clenched teeth. "Baby is not just a car."

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "The stuff we needed to make a curse box are in the trunk, along with all our weapons, aren't they?"

Dean nodded and narrowed his eyes at his brother. "You get my Baby back Sammy. In one piece."

Stacey linked arms with Sam. "Don't worry Deano, we'll get your precious Baby back." She winked at me, "You can stay with Y/n, I'm sure she'll protect you. Play some scrabble or something."

I glared at her before I grabbed Dean and pushed him back into the room then turned to Sam. "Find that car and be quick." I shut the door and pointed to the table. "All of your weapons. On the table. Now."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm not sitting here with you, knowing you have loaded weapons on you, especially while you're cursed." I said, sitting down. "Table. Now."

"I like it when you're bossy," he smirked, pulling out his gun and the demon knife out of the back of his jeans, placing them on the table.

I arched a brow. "Is that all?"

Sighing, he bent over to pull out a small gun that was holstered around his calf, adding it to the weapons already on the table, then sliding an angel blade out of his jacket's inside pocket and placing it in my outstretched hand.

"Thank you," I said, putting it with the others.

He flopped down on the bed with a huff and propped his head up with his hand. "You know, we could have a bit of fun. Blow off some steam, seen as we are here all alone." He said, waggling his eyebrows and winking at me.

"And what kind of fun would that be?" I asked flirtatiously.

He smirked. "Why don't you come over here and I'll show you sweetheart."

I smiled and stood up, watching his face as I walked slowly over to him, his eyes widening, mouth parting slightly and his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed. I leaned over him, my hands on either side of him, my lips close to his ear. "You wish Winchester," I whispered as I grabbed a pillow and hit him in the side of the head with it. "Sorry Dean, I couldn't resist." I giggled, sitting next to him.

He laughed, knocking me with his shoulder. "Tease."

My smile faltered, and I rested my head on his shoulder, my hands fiddling with my top. The thought of possibly losing him to this curse, made me physically sick. As much as things were still kind of in the sir between us, the thought of him dying...we still had so much to talk about, so many things to do together.

He took one of my hands and squeezed it gently. "You ok?"

I fought back the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. "I..." I looked up at him with glassy eyes. "I don't want you to die," I brought my legs up on the bed, pulling away from him and crossing my legs, turning sideways to face him. "I owe you an apology Dean."

His brows raised in surprise. "What? You don't owe me anything after what I did."

"No! I mean yeah, what happened was pretty bad, but I wasn't exactly innocent in all this either."

He turned to look at me, frowning. "What do you mean?"

I sighed. "All those months I kept on whining to you about Sam, crying over him, pining over him, talking about him incessantly, and all the while you were in love with me. I was doing to you, however unintentionally, what I thought Sam was doing to me."

He shook his head and smiled softly. "You don't have to say sorry to me about something you didn't know about."

"But in a way, I did know. Deep down, all those feelings I thought were for Sam, were all for you. And I think I pushed them on to him because I was too scared to admit to myself that I loved you. You were my best friend and the thought of losing you..." I said, looking down at my hands, my eyes filling with tears again. "After I was stabbed and we nearly kissed, I think I knew then that my feelings for you were more than just friends. And then I fucked it up by getting drunk and kissing you anyway."

He scooted closer to me, pulling me towards him so that I was nearly sitting in his lap. "None of that is your fault. I acted like an ass. I ignored you, left you in the bunker to go hunting alone, then I did the worst thing imaginable. I broke your heart and made you feel like you weren't special to me when you meant everything to me."

"I still don't understand why. Why did you kick me out? Why did you say all those things to me if you didn't mean it?"

He wrapped his arms around me and sighed deeply. "I knew the only way I could get you to leave was if I hurt you deeply, and I'll regret that till the day I die. I'm poison Y/n, the people I care for, the people I love, they all die. And I didn't, I couldn't let that happen to you. I thought that the further away you were from me, then the demons and the monsters we fight couldn't get any kind of leverage to use against me, to come after you and take you away from me. So I did what I thought was right at the time but I was wrong. So wrong."

"Did you look for me?" I asked quietly. I wasn't sure of the answer, only knowing what Sam had told me, that he had told him to stop looking for me.

"At first, no. But after a couple of weeks missing you like crazy and regretting what I did, I started to look for you. Sam didn't know, I knew that he was searching for you too." He said running his fingers through my hair. "But I couldn't find any trace of you. It was like you'd disappeared off the face of the earth."

I relaxed in his arms. "I suppose I did. You both know all the tricks we use to disappear, so I tried to do the opposite. Used only burner phones, hitchhiked as much as I could, only stealing cars when I caught a case, kept off the radar as much as possible, I knew it would be harder for anyone to find me. Not that I thought you were looking. I just wanted to be alone." Lifting myself up and straddled him, my legs resting on either side of him. He looked at me in surprise and I cupped his face in my hands. "And now, now you're here in front of me." I leaned forward and gently pressed my lips against his, closing my eyes as my hands slid down and around the back of his neck.

His lips molded against mine, our kiss slow, his scent surrounding me as his hands slid up my back pulling me closer, making my skin feel like it was on fire and I could feel his growing erection press against my core.

I heard someone clear their throat, and I pulled away, turning my head to see Sam and Stacey standing in the doorway. Stacey was grinning from ear to ear, Sam smirking at the position we were caught in.

"Oh!" I leaped off Dean's lap and sat next to him, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. He just chuckled and took a hold of my hand, giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze.

"About fucking time!" Stacey gushed, clapping her hands in excitement.

I groaned. "Stacey..."

Dean leaned over and kissed my cheek before looking up at Sam. "Baby?"

Sam shook his head. "Sorry, no sign of her yet, but we did get the supplies needed to make a new curse box."

"Maybe if we get this damn book under lock and key, the curse will be lifted and we find Baby?" I said in a hopeful tone.

Sam nodded. "She might be right. It's happened with cursed items we've dealt with before so it's worth a try."

Dean clapped and rubbed his hands together. "Well, then let's get this damn box made."

@lauraashley93 @luvlady-writes @strngtsblog @superflannel @mvrylee @rathaver @awesomeness1679 @foxyjwls007 @marvelouswinchester

[lauraashley93]

Unrequited

The most terrible loneliness is in loving someone completely, deeply, and without reserve; and knowing that you are not loved that way in return.

A/N - So, the case they are working on is based on an actual cursed book. There is a warning to people who read the poem, saying that bad luck will befall them. Feedback is always welcome, let me know what you think!

Characters - Dean, Sam, Stacey (OC), Y/n

Chapter Twentyone

It didn't take us long to get back to the motel, and I kept a hold of the book as we walked into the room.

Sam was sat in his usual position, at the table with his laptop in front of him, the food Dean had brought back next to him. Dean was lying on the bed, propped up by the headboard, his ankles crossed and shoving fries into his mouth as he watched some crappy TV programmes. He looked up as soon as we entered.

"Did you get it?" he asked around a mouthful of fries.

I nodded and showed him the book, moving it away from him when he held out his hand. "I don't think so, pretty boy. Get your greasy hands away from the very rare, very much cursed book."

He scowled at me and pouted. "I only wanted to have a look."

"Look with your eyes, not with your hands."

Sam looked at me. "Can I?"

Nodding, I handed him the book, along with the laptop. "Stacey thought it would come in handy, we might be able to fins something to figure out why the book only cursed the vic's and no one else who had touched it."

He smiled and looked over at his girlfriend, who was leaning back on the bed they shared. "Good thinking babe."

She beamed at him. "Thanks."

"Hey! How come you let him hold it?" Dean complained sounding slightly offended that I'd given the book to Sam.

"Because he's not currently inhaling greasy diner food," I said, scrunching up my face at the burger he was holding.

"This is amazing," Sam said in awe, totally enthralled by the book. He kept turning it over in his hands, stroking the spine and being very careful not to damage the book. "For being a hundred years old, it's still in a pretty good condition."

"So, what now?" I asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed Dean was lying on.

Stacey shrugged, moving to stand behind Sam and resting her hands on his shoulders. "Research I guess. We still need to figure out what to do with the thing and why it only affected these guys and not anyone else who touched the book. I mean, it hasn't effected me, you or Sam, so it must be something they did, maybe?"

"Seen as we have the last vic's laptop. I can go through it and see if I can find something. Y/n you could look into how to destroy the book," Sam said, pushing over his laptop for me to use. "Babe, do you think you could manage to get the other vics computers too? It might give us a bit more insight into what the vics were up to."

She kissed his cheek. "I'll change into my suit and see what I can do."

"What about me?" Dean asked around another mouthful of fries.

"You can help Y/n research on how to destroy the book, if that's ok with her?" Sam asked, looking over at me.

I shrugged, my heart picking up speed. "Sure, I don't mind. As long as he doesn't annoy me."

A smirk spread across his face. "Can't promise you that sweetheart. I've been told I'm very annoying."

Rolling my eyes, I flipped him off before grabbing the laptop and getting down to work.

There wasn't really that much to learn about the book that we didn't already know. The curse seemed to only effect men, with deaths starting only a year after the book was published. "The book seemed to claim at least 3-4 victims a year from 1920. The deaths, which were all classed as accidental, that seem to be connected to the book until 1967, when it disappeared, resurfacing when Mr Park bought it." I said to no one in particular. "And the deaths were all men."

"Why just the men? That's a little sexist, ain't it?" Dean griped, glancing over at me.

"No, maybe it knows most men are dicks," I retorted, looking at Sam apologetically.

He just rolled his eyes and carried on hacking Mr Clarke's laptop.

"I'm offended by that statement. Not all men are dicks."

Smirking, I tilted my head. "And you're the expert on that, aren't you Dean?"

He raised his hands in surrender and went back to reading his book.

"Why those in particular though?" I thought out loud. "I mean, most people ack dickish at times, but they must have done something bad enough to activate a bloody curse."

"I think I have an idea," Sam piped up, "I've been going through Mr Clarke's emails from the last few years, seeing if anything flagged as unusual," he said as he turned the laptop, "He was involved in the hit and run of a little girl. He was driving drunk when he hit her, killing her instantly. She was only 11 years old. He was sentenced with community service and a slap on the wrist."

My eyes swam with tears. "11 years old. I just...I can't believe he got nothing for killing a young girl. He deserved the curse."

Dean shook his head. "How the hell did he get off with that?"

Sam pulled the laptop back to face him. "Money. Turns out he knew the judge from the country club. There was an appeal regarding how lenient the sentence was, why he didn't get any prison time but it ultimately lead to nothing."

"Unbelievable." I muttered angrily.

Stacey walked through the door, immediately stopping as she noticed the somber feel of the room. "I managed to get both laptops. "What happened?"

Sam showed her the emails and articles on the computer, the colour draining out of her face as she read the articles. "That's just..." she shook her head sadly. "He's lucky the curse killed him. That poor girl."

The room went silent as we all continued to research, Stacey handing one of the laptops to Sam and kept the other as she sat of the sofa.

Every now and again, I could feel Dean's eyes on me, watching me work. It was irritating the hell out of me and when he started to continuously click his pen, I lost my temper. "Dean, do you know the human body has 7 trillion nerves?"

He looked over at me. "Yeah, and?"

"And you're getting on every single last one of mine." I snapped. "Stop clicking the god damn pen!"

Stacey laughed, Sam smirking at his brother.

His mouth twitched. "You mean like this?" He clicked the pen again quickly and I clenched my jaw.

"You keep clicking that pen and I swear to god I will stab you in the throat with it."

He grinned and clicked it again. "I'd like to see you try sweetheart."

I knew he was teasing, but he was annoying the hell out of me. I turned to Sam. "Can I kill him?"

"No," he said, not even looking up from the computer.

"Just a little bit?"

I saw him smile. "Maybe later."

Dean's grin widened. "Someone's cranky."

I scowled at him and narrowed my eyes. "Somebody needs to shut the fuck up."

Stacey was watching the two of us bickering, her smile just as wide as Dean's. I glared at her. "Don't you start."

She looked at me innocently. "I didn't say a word."

My eyes narrowed at her. "But you want too."

Her eyes sparkled with humour, and she gave me a lopsided grin.

"So, get this," Sam interuppted, making the whole room turn to him. "Turns out Mr Carter hired someone to kill his wife."

My brows shot up. "What?"

"The burglar who 'accidently' shot him? He was the hitman meant to kill his wife on that same night. He shot the wrong person."

"That's just...wow. Karma at it's finest." I shook my head in disbelief. "Looks like the book cursed the right people."

Stacey nodded. "Well, Mr Park here was spending up a storm with his company's money. Refused to increase his employee's wages and spent the money on," she looked back at the laptop, "prostitutes, drugs and very extravagant holidays according to his emails. And I mean extravagant. He was paying one hotel $10000 per night for a room."

"Nice," Dean said, "what a way to fuck over your employee's and drag your family into debt."

"I haven't found much on a way to destroy the book," I frowned, "It was shipped here in a metal box, which I'm assuming is a curse box but it could be anywhere by now."

"Little gasoline...blowtorch...no problem." Dean said, putting down his book and smiling at me.

"I wish it was that easy. Looks like people have tried to destroy it in the past but obviously, it hasn't worked. Hence the curse box."

Sam shut the laptop and stood up, Stacey following suit. "We'll go back to the houses, see if we can find the box the book came with, if not, we will probably have to make our own."

"Have we got everything we need to make our own?" I asked.

Dean nodded. "We should have in Baby."

Sam looked at me. "Are you ok staying here..." he nodded his head towards Dean, who had gone back to flicking through the TV channels.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just find that damn box."

They quickly left the room, leaving me alone with Dean. "So..." I said awkwardly.

"Thanks for letting me stay in your room last night," he said, looking over at me.

"Oh...er...no problem." I murmured, biting my bottom lip, pretending to carry on researching. I don't know why all of a sudden I felt shy being here alone with him. Being with Sam and Stacey, I felt more comfortable, more confident and at ease with him being around. But alone? I was like a giddy, shy, nervous teenager.

"Y/n," he stood up and walked over to me, sitting in the chair Sam had been sitting on. "I'm sorry if I upset you last night. I didn't mean to..."

"I know." I smiled softly. "I just..." I looked down at the table, fiddling with my t-shirt. "I felt rejected, like I wasn't good enough for you." I mumbled quietly.

"More like the other way around sweetheart. I'm not good enough for you. I was an idiot to let you go and I'll never forgive myself for what I did to you." He stood and dropped to his knees in front of me, reaching out and hooking his fingers under my chin and raising my face so that I was looking directly at him. "I should never have let you go." His hands cupped my face and he leaned forward. "I love you Y/n," he whispered before pressing his lips gently against mine, his eyes seeking permission to keep kissing me.

I moaned softly, my arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer, his hands dropping to my waist, the kiss slow and sensual, not wanting to rush or give in to the primal need we both felt.

I didn't realise I was crying until he pulled back, his fingers wiping away my tears.

"Y/n, did I...I'm sorry...I shouldn't have..." he moved to stand up and I grabbed his arm, pulling him back to me.

"No! I mean...it's just..." I sighed. "It's all a little overwhelming. I love you Dean, I do, but I'm still angry at you and it's confusing me and frustrating me and I...I'm sorry. I'm not making much sense."

He pulled me into a hug, my head coming to rest on his shoulder. "No, I get it, I do. I know you need time and I'm sorry if I'm pushing you into things too quick." He ran his fingers through my hair, making me sigh against his neck. "I want to make it right again. I need to show you how sorry I am, but I can wait. I'll always wait for you."

I closed my eyes, smiling as he squeezed me close to him before I pulled away and stood up. He looked confused for a second and I nodded towards the bathroom. "I need to...you know..."

As soon as I closed the door, I turned and pressed my back against it as I touched my lips and closed my eyes. The feel of his lips, of his body pressed against mine...it was just as I'd imagined. Letting out a sigh, I walked over to the mirror. What was happening? Tears filled my eyes again as I looked at myself in the mirror. My face was flushed pink, tear marks streaking down my cheeks. I looked and felt exhausted. All I wanted to do was curl up with Dean under my blanket and sleep the rest of the day away.

Splashing my face with water, I took one last look in the mirror before turning and walking out of the bathroom, looking over at Dean. He was holding the book, his posture changing, and he stood up to his full height, the book flipping open in his hands and I gasped, my arms stretching out towards him.

"Dean, no!"

@lauraashley93 @luvlady-writes @strngtsblog @superflannel @mvrylee @rathaver @awesomeness1679

[lauraashley93]

Unrequited

The most terrible loneliness is in loving someone completely, deeply, and without reserve; and knowing that you are not loved that way in return.

A/N - Feedback is always welcome, let me know what you think!

Characters - Dean, Sam, Stacey (OC), Y/n

Chapter Twenty

I woke to the smell of coffee, the room empty and the blanket Dean had used folded neatly on top of the sofa. He must have left the coffee for me, I thought as I swung my legs out of the bed, raising my arms and stretching out my stiff muscles.

Grabbing the coffee, I took a large gulp. I needed to wake myself up and get ready so we could finish this case. Walking to the bathroom, I turned on the shower, making sure it was cold. That should shock my body into gear. Stepping under the cold water, I let out a squeak, washing myself quickly, my teeth chattering and my whole body shivering. But I was definitely more alert.

I wrapped myself in a towel and walked back into the room, grabbing the blanket Dean had slept with and wrapped it around my shoulders. I inhaled deeply, the smell of him all over the blanket and I snuggled into it more, letting his scent wrap around me as I lay on the bed.

It was going to be awkward being around him today after last night. I still felt the sting of rejection from our near kiss even though I knew it was for the best it didn't happen.

Dean was right, I needed to be sure that it was something I truly wanted. And right now I wasn't sure. I was still so angry, more so now that I had both Sam and Stacey telling me that he had lied to me to keep me safe. And I was still unsure about whether they were just telling me what I wanted to hear. The whole situation with Dean was confusing and frustrating because of what happened. How calm he had been, how nasty he had acted towards me, saying words I'd never have thought he would say, to throw away something so special so easily. If he regretted it as much as Sam and Stacey claimed he did, then why do it in the first place, and why didn't he look for me after I had left? I knew he was stubborn but when it involved the person you loved then surely he would have pushed past his pride and helped his brother look for me.

There were so many unanswered questions, so many reasons why I should just carry on hunting alone, saying my goodbyes to the Winchesters and moving on.

I shrugged off the blanket and rummaged through my bag for some clothes, grabbing a pair of jeans and a red vest top. Pulling my long hair back into a ponytail, I slipped on my boots, grabbed my keys and walked out the door, ready to get this damn case finished.

Stacey answered the door, full of pep and smiles. How could she be this chirpy this early in the morning? Looking over at Sam and seeing the big smile plastered over his face told me all I needed to know.

Lucky, horny bastards.

I sat down at the table and rested my head in my hands, not even noticing when Dean sat across from me. He smiled and I just stared at him, my mind flicking back to what happened last night and how good it felt having his arms wrapped around me. I couldn't help but wonder what it was like kissing him, his plump pink lips molding against mine, pulling my body closer as he deepened the kiss...

Sam cleared his throat and I blinked, my eyes widening when I realised I was still staring at Dean. He was looking back at me and winked, the corners of his mouth turning up into a small smile, knowing exactly what I was daydreaming about. Frowning, I flipped him off and turned my attention to Sam. "So, what's the plan?"

"We need to get our hands on that book before it gets to Mr Wood. Find out why, when touched by the victims, it only affected them and nobody else who had handled the book. There must be a reason for that. And we need to find out how to destroy the damn thing." he said, wrapping his arms around Stacey's waist. She smiled and reached up to kiss his cheek.

"We should get the book first. We don't want another body on our hands." I pointed out. "I'm sure us girls can manage that."

Dean nodded. "Well, while you two get the book, I'm going to grab some food and Sammy can make a start on the research. I'm starved."

Sam frowned. "You're always starved. Why can't I get the food and you start researching?"

"Because I'm not a huge nerd," he retorted. "Plus I'm not eating the rabbit food you're always eating."

I rolled my eyes and he winked at me again before leaving the room.

Stacey shook her head, kissing Sam quickly before turning to me. "Let's get that book, partner."

----------------------------------------------------------------

We pulled up outside Mr Clarke's home, and I noticed the empty driveway. "Great. Just my luck they aren't in," I turned to Stacey, "have you got a lock pick with you?"

She pulled out a small black pouch. "I'm like a girl scout, I always come prepared."

I moved to get out of the car, but she grabbed my arm. "I don't think so missy. I saw Dean leaving your room this morning," she said, a smile creeping on her face. "Tell me everything."

Turning back towards her, I shrugged. "Nothing happened, huh? I can tell you've been crying Y/n. What did he do? I'm gonna kick his ass..."

I smiled at her protectiveness. "He didn't do anything, honestly. He just...well, I..." Sighing, I looked down at my hands. "There was a moment, where we, kinda, nearly kissed?" My voice raised at the end and I bit my bottom lip.

Her mouth dropped open and her brows shot up. "What?"

"We didn't though. He was..." I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "he told me that as much as he wanted to kiss me, he didn't want me to regret it. He said he wanted me to want to kiss him."

Stacey's eyes widened as she listened to me. "That's...that's...surprising. But I do agree with him."

My eyes filled with tears. "I know he's right. But I wanted him to kiss me Stacey. I wanted him to kiss me so bad. It felt so good to be in his arms," a tear slid down my cheek, "Even though I know what he did was right, it still made me feel rejected, like I'm still not good enough for him. I'm so confused and angry and upset...I don't know what to do."

She reached over and wiped away my tear with her finger before grabbing my hands. "Listen to me, you are good enough. You are beautiful, kind, funny and a fucking bad ass hunter. You don't need to know all the answers right away. Dean can wait. He still has a lot to prove to you that you can trust him again and for you to figure out what you want to do. Don't let him, or us, pressure you into making a decision you're not quite ready to make." She squeezed my hands and smiled. "Now, let's get that damn book."

We got out of the car and walked to the front door of the house. I knocked lightly, checking to see if someone was in and we weren't about to get caught breaking in. There was no answer, so I kept watch as Stacey flipped open her lock pick and set to work, breaking the lock in less than twenty seconds.

"Nice," I said, impressed by how quick she was. "That was quicker than I've ever seen Sam or Dean do it."

She smirked as she pocketed her kit. "I know, it really pisses of Dean off that I'm quicker than him."

We both giggled as we opened the door and snuck inside the house. Splitting up, she went upstairs as I checked out downstairs.

The house was pristine, everything looked like it had its place and there was literally no mess anywhere. I ran my fingers along the fireplace. Not even a single speck of dust.

It was all a little too Stepford wives for me.

I checked everywhere I could think of, including the kitchen cupboards. Hearing the sound of a car pulling up, I looked out of the window to see Mrs Clarke climb out of her car.

Shit.

I ran as quietly as possible up the stairs, bumping into Stacey as I reached the top. "We've got a problem."

She frowned, holding the book tight to her chest along with a laptop. "Damn it. Well, at least I found the book."

"What's with the laptop?" I whispered as we quickly and quietly ran back down the stairs and into the kitchen, ducking down behind the counters when we heard the front door open.

"I figured if we want to find out why the book only effected the 3 vic's, then there must be something on here to help us figure it out," she whispered back as we hid.

"Yes, I know that...no, I don't...I see...ok..."

She was too busy talking on her cell to notice us hiding and she walked right past us hiding in the kitchen and walked straight upstairs.

I let out the breath I was holding and we tip-toed to the front door, opening it slowly and getting out of the house as fast as we could, running over to the car. We were both breathing heavily when we jumped into the car, Stacey immediately starting the car and driving towards the motel. "That was close. Thank god you found the book."

She let out a laugh. "I know, right? That definitely got my heart pounding."

I picked up the book off the back seat and looked it over. It looked like any other kind of old hardback book, the cover a deep burgandy red leather with a little wear and tear. The pages were frayed and quite thin and I flicked through them, careful not to rip or damage them but fascinated by the writings. The calligraphy was amazing, the letters flowing together perfectly. I'd never seen Japanese writing before and it was beautiful. Sam was going to love it.

@lauraashley93 @luvlady-writes @strngtsblog @superflannel @mvrylee @rathaver @awesomeness1679

[lauraashley93]

Unrequited

The most terrible loneliness is in loving someone completely, deeply, and without reserve; and knowing that you are not loved that way in return.

A/N - Feedback is always welcome, let me know what you think!

Characters - Dean, Sam, Stacey (OC), Y/n

Chapter Nineteen

Sleep seemed to evade me.

Staring up at the ceiling of the motel room, I sighed. Just a couple of hours, I thought trying to relax and will my body to let me sleep. I gave my legs a shake, then my arms and my head in an effort to loosen up before closing my eyes, letting my body relax and sink into the mattress and I let out a deep breath.

I carried on breathing slowly in and out, trying to clear my mind but it just wasn't happening.

"God damn it!" I yelled in frustration as I thrashed about angrily in my bed, arms and legs flailing about before lying still again. I picked up my phone and checked the time.

3:47am.

Fuck. I needed coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.

I dragged myself out of bed and grabbed my jacket and keys, not bothering to change out of my pyjamas that were really just a pair of shorts and one of Dean's old band t-shirts I had stolen off him when I still lived at the bunker.

The all night diner was only a block away so I walked there slowly, enjoying the cool night air and clear starry sky. This was one of the aspects I loved about small towns. There was no smog and crap in the air to block out the night's sky, to see all the stars lighting my way through the darkness.

Pushing open the door of the diner, I took in a deep breath, the smell of fresh coffee in the sir making me sigh in happiness. "A very large coffee please." I asked as I sat down at the counter.

The waitress grabbed a mug and poured me my coffee. "Here you go, darling."

I wrapped my hands around the mug and took a long sip, savouring the taste of the hot, bitter liquid sliding down my throat. "Mmm, thank you."

I walked over to an empty booth, coffee in hand and looked around. The diner was practically empty, a couple of truckers dotted around and the cook and waitress chatting behind the counter.

Life was so simple for them, no knowledge of what lurks in the shadows and under your bed wanting to eat you alive. Sometimes I wondered what my life would have been like if I didn't know about the things that go bump in the night. I'd always dreamt of being a teacher, working in an elementary school somewhere and helping cute little kids learn how to read and write.

I smiled wistfully and looked out of the window into the darkness surrounding the diner. I knew what was out there, I killed what was out there, and for what? To keep the world a safer place? I wondered sometimes who were more dangerous; the monsters I fought or the humans I saved.

Monsters knew what they wanted, and they set out to achieve that goal. Kill and destroy. They were kind of predictable that way.

But humans, all they seemed to do was lie and manipulate, cheat, kill and destroy others for kicks. You never really knew what someone was capable of, even the quietest, kindest and friendliest person usually had something to hide.

I drank the rest of my coffee, leaving a few bills on the table and left the diner to walk back to the motel.

I hadn't gotten far when I sensed it.

Someone was following me.

I'd only left the diner about 3 minutes ago when I heard the footsteps behind me. It was still dark, sunset only a couple of hours away and I quickened my pace, wanting to get back to the motel as quickly as I could. Suddenly I felt someone grab my arm and I instinctively spun around, my hand clenching into a fist and connecting with the person's face.

"Ow, shit Y/n,"

"Dean?"

I pulled away and watched as he rubbed his jaw, my mouth twitching into a smile. "What the hell were you doing following me in the middle of the night?"

He looked down at me sheepishly. "I wasn't following you. I saw you walk to the diner and wanted to make sure you were ok."

"Make sure I was..." I sighed and shook my head. "Dean, I can handle myself, you of all people should know that. Plus, walking behind a woman in the dark and grabbing their arm? You're lucky I didn't have my room key in between my fingers or you would have lost an eye."

"Yeah, sorry. Didn't really think things through there, did I?" he said embarrassed, rubbing the nape of his neck.

"Not the first time you didn't think things through," I said quietly. "How did you see me if you were in your room? Were you watching me?"

"No! I was sleeping in Baby. Didn't want to stay in the room with those two lovebirds going at it."

I scrunched up my face and nodded. "Yeah, I don't think I'd want to be in the room with them either. Why didn't you just book another room?"

He shrugged. "Why waste the money when Baby is there?"

"Yeah, but it isn't exactly comfortable to sleep in." I started to walk again, Dean easily keeping up with me.

"It's comfortable enough."

We walked in an awkward silence, stopping when we reached the motel. "Well, I guess..." I said taking a step backwards.

"Yeah..." he murmured, reaching up to scratch his neck.

"Goodnight Dean."

"It's morning but yeah, goodnight."

Walking to my room, I paused before opening the door, looking back at him leaning against his car. I couldn't leave him out here to sleep in the Impala. It would only be a couple of hours then we'd all be up and carrying on working on the case.

"Hey, Dean," I whisper-yelled, trying not to be too loud.

His head snapped around. "Yeah?"

I took in a deep breath and smiled. "You can stay on the sofa in my room for the next couple hours if you like. It's a lot more comfortable than staying out here."

His eyebrows snapped up in surprise. "Are you sure?"

Nodding I opened the door. "Yeah, come on."

He practically sprinted over to me, a huge smile spread across his face. "Thanks Y/n."

"This doesn't mean we're besties or anything. I just don't want you to get cold..."

He closed the door behind him and I looked up as he walked slowly into the room, staring at me with those shimmering emerald eyes. I swallowed and turned away, letting out a nervous giggle. "There...there are some spare blankets in the wardrobe for you to use."

He grabbed my hand and squeezed it, my skin tingling at his touch. "Thank you Y/n."

Looking down at my hand in his, it felt...it felt...right. Like my hand was molded to fit perfectly into his. My stomach was flipping out, flames licking my entire body as I looked back up into those exquisite green eyes, mesmerised by just how beautiful they were, how intoxicating he was and how much I wanted him, despite everything. He had pulled me forward, his hands snaking around my waist and I closed my eyes, my lips parting, ready to feel his soft, plump lips pressing against mine...

"Y/n, I want to kiss you right now, I want to kiss you so badly, but I don't want you to regret this and get upset. I need to make you see how much I regret what happened, how much I want you, how much I love you and I want you to want this just as much as I do. I don't want to take advantage of you," he whispered into my ear, pressing a soft kiss on my forehead and pulling away from me. "If I kissed you now, I don't think I'd be able to stop."

I couldn't move. My mouth opened and closed as I tried to find the words, any words, to convey how appreciative I was that he didn't take advantage of the situation given the circumstances. But yet at the same time, rejection flowed through me. That he didn't want to kiss me because I still wasn't good enough for him. I tried to blink back the tears filling my eyes and failed miserably.

"Y/n, I didn't mean to..." he said, reaching out for me.

I took a step back and raised my hand. "I know. I just...I need..." I turned quickly and rushed to the bathroom, locking the door behind me before turning and sliding to the floor.

Dean knocked on the door. "Hey, are you ok? I'm sorry..."

I sniffed. "I'm fine...I'll be out in a minute Dean. You try and get some sleep."

There was a slight pause before he responded. "Ok. I'm sorry sweetheart."

I listened to his footsteps walk away, the creak of the wardrobe doors as he got a blanket and the squeaky coils in the sofa as he sat down before I turned on the shower and started to cry.

What is wrong with me? I thought sobbing. What the hell am I doing inviting him into my room? I missed him, missed how we used to be. I never thought we would end up like this, we were practically strangers. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I took a deep breath and stood up. I need to get at least a couple hours of sleep, I thought, splashing my face with cold water and turning off the shower.

Opening the door, I walked quietly into the room, tip toeing past a sleeping Dean as not to wake him. He looked so peaceful lying there, his soft snores making me smile. Reaching over him, I pulled the blanket up to his shoulders, cradling the side of his face with my hand gently. He seemed to sense my presence even in his sleep and he turned into my hand, mumbling my name.

"Thank you Dean." I whispered before removing my hand and sliding into my bed, my eyes heavy with tiredness. The sound of his snores helped lull me to sleep, his presence making me feel safe and for the first time in a long time, I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

@lauraashley93 @luvlady-writes @strngtsblog @superflannel @mvrylee @rathaver @awesomeness1679

[lauraashley93]

Unrequited

The most terrible loneliness is in loving someone completely, deeply, and without reserve; and knowing that you are not loved that way in return.

A/N - Feedback is always welcome, let me know what you think!

Characters - Dean, Sam, Stacey (OC), Y/n

Chapter Eighteen

My drive back to the motel was quiet, my mind on Dean and my feelings for him.

Could I forgive him? I honestly did not know the answer to that question. I still loved him, there was no doubt about that, and I knew I always would, but could I put what happened behind us and think about a future with him? Could I trust him again?

Sighing, I pulled up outside my room, the Impala not that far behind me. I knew we needed to go over the case but all I wanted was to be alone, for this day to be over. The boys were already at their door and I watched as they both paused before reaching for their guns. Sam looked over at me and nodded towards their door, which was partly open. I grabbed my own gun and quietly got out of my car, walking quickly over to them.

We walked slowly to the door; I stood on the left side while Dean stood on the right, Sam gently nudging the door open before quietly walking into the room. A dark figure stood in the middle of the room, their back to us.

"Don't move." I said, my finger touching the trigger of my gun as they started to turn around.

As soon as I had spoken, Sam had lowered his gun and walked over to whoever it was in their room and wrapped his arms around them. I couldn't see who it was because of Sam's giant frame, until Dean stood next to me.

"Stacey," he said as he closed the door and put his gun on the table. I lowered my own gun, trying not to watch their lovey-doveyness. I couldn't help it though. The smile on Sam's face told me he truly loved this girl, he lit up and looked the happiest I'd ever seen him, and it brought a small smile to my lips.

Dean sat at the table and I sat opposite him, still watching Sam and Stacey.

"Makes you want to puke, don't it?" he said as he watched them too.

My eyes flickered over to him. He had the same wistful look in his eyes as I did, and I could tell that it was something that maybe he wanted too. "I think it's cute," I replied, giving him a small smile.

He smiled back at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Maybe things had changed, maybe Sam was right.

"Y/n!"

My eyes widened at the shriek of my name and I was grabbed and pulled up into a tight hug. "Need...to...breath..." I managed to gasp out.

"Oh! Sorry!"

She let me go, a bemused Sam standing behind her. I smiled at her tentatively, my brows rising at her excitement to see me.

"Oh my god, it is so good to see you again!" She exclaimed. "We've been searching for you for months and Sam just happens to bump into you on the same case! How lucky!"

"Yeah, lucky..." I trailed off, looking over he shoulder at Sam. He just shrugged, his smile widening.

"After Sam told me what Deano..."

"Dean. My name is Dean!" he interrupted, his voice rising at the little nickname she'd obviously been calling him for a while now.

She rolled her eyes and smirked. "Like I said, Deano," she exaggerated his nickname, "he was, well we all know what happened. I can't imagine how you felt and I know it wasn't good." She pursed her lips and her brows furrowed as she looked at him. He was looking down at the table avoiding the stares, and she looked back up at me. "I can't wait to get to know you a bit better, after all we only met once."

Grabbing my arm she pulled me towards the door. "Let's go to your room and have a little girly chat."

I looked at Sam with pleading eyes as she pulled me out of the door, but he just laughed and gave me a little wave. Dean was still looking down at the table, not bothering to look up.

She was spirited, I'll give her that.

As soon as we walked into my room, she pulled me into another hug. It felt oddly comforting, not like the hug she gave me in the boys room, and I rested my head on her shoulder, the emotions of the last couple of days hitting me all at once and I started to cry.

"Aww, sweetie," she murmured into my hair. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm...I'm ok," I managed to utter around my sobs. "You smell like my mom."

She chuckled as she lead me over to the sofa and we sat down next to each other. "Can't beat a spritz of Chanel No 5. How have you been?" she asked softly, keeping a hold of my hands.

"I was getting by ok until a couple of days ago. Seeing him was...unexpected."

She nodded. "I'll bet it was. When Sam told me what happened...he was so angry, Y/n. Angry at Dean, angry at himself for not being there when he...you know."

"It wasn't his fault. I don't think he would ever have thought Dean would do something like that. I sure didn't." She leaned back against the sofa. "We searched high and low for you girl! How the hell did we not find you?"

I wiped the tears from my eyes and laughed. "I'm actually surprised at that myself. I just kind of stayed off the radar I guess. Only used cash, burner phones which I changed when I could, avoided any other hunters and took cases that I thought they wouldn't be interested in." I shrugged, "Got that one wrong though and now here we are."

"Weren't you tempted to just run?" She asked as she arched a brow.

"I was going to. But Sam asked me to stay. And well, you know how persuasive he is."

Her mouth curled into a smile. "Puppy dog eyes?"

I nodded. "Puppy dog eyes."

She laughed loudly, her blue eyes twinkling. "But they worked and here you are sat in front of me." She squeezed my hands. "I'm so happy he found you. He has missed you terribly, and so has Dean."

"Stacey..."

"I know, I know. He's a dick, a major dick for what he did to you. I've been giving him shit for it for 7 months. But I've seen how miserable he is." She frowned, a line appearing between her brows. "I'm not going to tell you to forgive him or forget what happened. And I'm not going to harp on at you about how sorry he is. It's your decision either way and I'll support you as best as I can and if you want any advice or you want to talk about how he's been since you left, then I'm here."

Knowing I could trust her made me feel marginally better about the whole situation and I knew I had a lot of decisions to make. "Thank you. In all honesty, I don't know what I'm going to do. I still love him, I love him so much Stacey and seeing him makes me ache to be in his arms. To forget it all. But I can't forget and I'm not sure I can forgive him." My eyes swam with tears. "He broke something inside of me Stacey. What he said to me, I can't get those words out of my head. I spent two years of my life living with him, thinking the bunker was my home, that he was my family and he destroyed it all in a matter of minutes."

She pulled out a tissue out from her pocket and handed it to me. "I...I don't know what I can say to make you feel better, to make this situation easier for you. Sam told me a little, but I don't think even he knows the whole story. Dean has never spoken about it and whenever we bring it up, he just walks away."

I let out a bitter laugh. "That's Dean for you. Can't let his emotions show, he's got to keep the big, bad, tough hunter charade going." I shook my head sadly and sighed. "And yet he used to be the sweetest, kindest person I knew. I loved being that one person who could bring out that side of him."

"You could again," she ventured, "I hear him some nights, I can hear him crying, whispering your name. He has one of your t-shirts you left behind in his room. Thinks we don't know about it but we do. He acts all tough but deep down, he knows he made the biggest mistake of his life letting you go."

"Sam told me the same thing." I said, nibbling on my lower lip. "I just...I can't..."

"It's ok Y/n. You don't need to know all the answers right now." She stood up and walked to the door. "Let's get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day. Just, all I ask is for you to give him a chance."

A single tear slid down my cheek. "I'll try."

@lauraashley93 @luvlady-writes @strngtsblog @superflannel @mvrylee @rathaver @awesomeness1679

[lauraashley93]

Unrequited

The most terrible loneliness is in loving someone completely, deeply, and without reserve; and knowing that you are not loved that way in return.

A/N - Feedback is always welcome, let me know what you think!

Characters - Dean, Sam, Y/n

Chapter Seventeen

Dean Winchester in a suit should be classed as a weapon of mass destruction. He looked good. Too good. Sinfully good.

I took in the sight of him; his suit pants accentuating his firm, tight ass, his white shirt showing just a hint of his muscular chest. Biting my bottom lip, I envisioned him pinning me to the wall and...no, I thought, mentally shaking my head. No. No matter how delicious he looked, no matter how much I wanted to grab him and kiss him, I had to remember the reason why we were in this position to begin with. And the way he made me feel like I wasn't good enough for him, or for anyone.

His gravely voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I realised I had been staring at him the entire time. My cheeks flushed pink and I quickly looked away, the smirk on his face letting me know he knew I'd been thinking about him.

Cocky bastard.

"The Sheriff confirmed the victim had the same shitty luck as the other two. Didn't understand what it had to do with the case though, seen as the coroner said they were all accidental deaths. Which I suppose they were, in a way. Just spurred on by a damn cursed book," he said.

"What happened to him before he croaked?" I asked, annoyed at myself for letting him get into my head.

"His house was about to be repossessed and put up for auction," he replied, leaning back against the Impala and crossing his arms over his chest. "Probably because his printing business was going under, and his wife filed for divorce and wanted half of his money."

I swear to god this man was trying to kill me. Seeing him leaning on the Impala so casually, his arms crossed making his shirt strain over his muscular arms, his jaw tensing as he reached up to loosen his tie a little...I seriously needed to concentrate on the case.

"Where is the book now?" Sam asked, loosening his own tie.

I think both boys were trying to kill me.

"It should still be at the vic's house. The Sheriff didn't mention anything about removing any of his belongings."

"We need to speak to his wife, see if he acted the same way as the other two when they touched the book." I said, trying hard not to stare at him. He knew the effect he was having on me, just like I knew he was loving every second of it.

"The same way?" he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"Mr Park's wife told us that when he touched the book, he immediately flicked to the page with the poem and read it out loud. In fluent Japanese." Sam told him as he walked to the back of the Impala and grabbed a couple bottles of water from the cooler in the back seat.

"I'm guessing he didn't know a lick of Japanese?" Dean asked, his brows rising.

"Nope. And I'm taking a wild guess that the other vic's didn't either." I added, taking the water Sam offered me and smiling at him gratefully.

It was starting to get dark and I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was go back to the motel and climb into bed. Surely, they could talk to Mrs Carter without me, I thought leaning back on my car, my head coming back to rest on the door frame, and I closed my eyes. I was getting a headache and being around Dean wasn't helping. Every time he looked at me, my stomach flipped and I was pretty sure I was going to start vomiting butterflies.

I opened my eyes and stretched out my tense muscles, noticing Dean staring at me this time, his mouth parting and his eyes wide. Smirking, I raised my arms into a long stretch, my shirt rising up and exposing my stomach before I pushed out my chest and straightened up, flashing him a sweet smile. He was practically drooling and I fist bumped myself in my head, glad I was having the same effect on him as he was having on me.

Sam cleared his throat and I looked at him. He rolled his eyes at my little display and I shrugged. "Let's get this over with shall we?" I said, "I've got a well deserved date with my pillow."

---------------------------------------------------------------

We were stood in front of Mr Carter's home waiting for someone to open the door. I was in between both boys, trying not to lose my composure as the smell of Dean's cologne enveloped me. I had missed that smell; whiskey, leather and a hint of vanilla.

I could feel his eyes on me as he shifted closer to me, making sure our arms were touching. A jolt of electricity ran through me at his touch and I turned my head, my eyes wide as he smiled down at me.

"I know you feel it too," he whispered low in my ear, the feel of his hot breath on my skin making me shiver with arousal, "that spark between us is still there."

"So what if it is. It doesn't mean anything," I hissed back angrily, straightening up as the door opened. "You're still a dick, Winchester."

Mrs Carter frowned when she saw me. "Look Agent, I told you before that I didn't want to talk. His death was deemed an accidental homicide. Can't you just let us grieve in peace?"

"I'm sorry ma'am, it's just a couple more questions. Mainly for insurance purposes."

She sighed loudly, pinching her nose and opening the door wider to let us in.

The strong smell of bleach overwhelmed me, the house unnaturally, sparkling clean. You'd never have guessed that someone had had their head blown off at the bottom of the staircase.

We sat down on the couch in the living area, Dean pressing himself against me again. It was a big enough couch to give us all extra room, but he had decided squishing against me would be better. I gritted my teeth knowing he was doing it on purpose. It was distracting me from concentrating on what we were supposed to be doing. I elbowed him the ribs, hearing him let out a quiet 'oof' and I smiled widely as I sat up straight.

"Can you tell us a little bit about the book your husband received from Mrs Park?" Sam asked gently.

She frowned and shook her head. "That book made me uncomfortable from the minute he laid eyes on it."

"What do you mean?" I asked, moving away from Dean a little.

She screwed up her face. "Well, apart from the fact it was given to him from his dead friend, as soon as he held the thing, it was like something went through him and right away he opened the book to read from it," she said shuddering slightly. "But he read it in a foreign language! He doesn't know any other language than English! And the way he spoke; it was so flat and scary. It didn't sound like him at all, Then he went back to normal like that," she snapped her fingers, "couldn't remember even reading the thing."

"You wouldn't happen to still have the book in your possession?" Dean asked, leaning forward and smiling at her.

She blushed and coyly smiled back at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh...erm...no...I...I gave it to Daniel. He collected books just like my husband and Harvey."

"That would be Danial Clarke, yes?" I asked her, frowning at her flirting with Dean.

She glanced over at me for a second before looking back at Dean. "Yes, Daniel Clarke."

"Thank you Mrs Carter," Dean said, his smile wide, holding out his hand for her to shake.

"Helen. Please, call me Helen," she flirted, gladly taking a hold of his hand.

My lips pursed and my eyes narrowed as I watched him flirt with her, jealousy rolling through me like thunder. We all stood at the same time and I lost my balance a little, Dean grabbing my arm to help me steady myself. My skin tingled at his touch, sending fire pulsing down to my core and I pulled away. "Don't touch me," I hissed quietly under my breath.

He backed away, looking a little shocked at my defensiveness.

I shouldn't have reacted so aggressively but the way he'd just been flirting with 'Helen' in front of me had me pissed and angry at myself. He made me feel so angry but at the same time, all I wanted to do was grab him and fuck him right there in front of that cougar and claim what was mine.

But that's just it, he wasn't mine. And never would be.

As soon as I was out of that house, I stormed over to my car, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath before opening the door.

"Hey Y/n," Sam called, walking over to me. "You ok?"

"Yep, I'm just dandy." I lied, plastering on a smile. "I just want to get out of here and away from Casanova over there." I indicated towards Dean, who was still talking to Helen. I watched as she slipped him a piece of paper, no doubt with her number written on it, and I shook my head, my eyes narrowing as I clenched my teeth in anger.

Sam smirked at me and crossed his arms. "You're jealous."

"What? No, I'm not," I snorted. "It's just, you know, her husband has only been dead a couple of weeks and she's already trying to get laid."

Sam shrugged as she watched them. "She did leave her husband before he died."

She laughed at something Dean said, reaching out and touching his arm, and I rolled my eyes. This was upsetting me more than I'd like. "Well, I bet she's a sure thing with Dean then."

Sam looked back at me and touched my arm. "Hey, I didn't mean to..."

I shook my head, interrupting him. "You didn't. I'm upsetting myself by letting him get into my head. So much for just strictly business." I smiled sadly. "I should have expected it. He's not mine Sam. He never was and will never be. I've just got to get through this case then I can disappear again."

He pulled me into a hug, kissing my forehead before resting his chin on top of my head. "You're wrong you know. You might not think it, or believe it, but he does love you. You know Dean. He's an idiot sometimes but he means well."

I wrapped my arms around his waist. "I thought I knew him. Turns out not so much."

@lauraashley93 @luvlady-writes @strngtsblog @superflannel @mvrylee @rathaver @awesomeness1679

[lauraashley93]

Unrequited

The most terrible loneliness is in loving someone completely, deeply, and without reserve; and knowing that you are not loved that way in return.

A/N - Feedback is always welcome, let me know what you think!

Characters - Sam, Dean, Y/n

Chapter Fourteen

Sam quickly stepped in front of me, blocking Dean's view and turning slightly to make sure I was ok. I looked up into his hazel eyes, silently begging him to get Dean away from me.

He turned, his back facing me. "You need to go,"

"What? No, I..." Dean mumbled, trying to look past Sam, trying to see if it was really me.

I stumbled back until I hit the wall, my eyes wide and my heart beating wildly in my chest. He knew I was here, he must have been watching Sam, watched him come into my room. How dare he have the nerve to knock on my door after what he did, I thought, my hands clenching into fists by my side. I wasn't going to let this asshole carry on ruining my life. Taking a deep breath, I straightened up and placed my hand on Sam's arm. "It's ok Sam."

He looked down at me and nodded, letting me step in front of him.

I looked up into his bright green eyes, still as beautiful as I remembered. He looked good, a little tired, but good. It all came flooding back to me, how much fun we used to have watching crappy movies together, laughing and joking, flirting and teasing each other. It made me smile but also made my heart ache for something that was never there to begin with. He didn't think of the same memories with fondness like I did. He thought of them as nothing, a part of his sick game to fuck with my head.

"Hello Dean."

He looked shocked at the sight of me, his mouth dropping open and his eyes wide. "Y/n...I..."

I smiled sweetly at him before drawing my fist back and punching him square in his pretty face, the sound of my fist connecting with his face incredibly satisfying.

His hands flew up to his face, pinching his bloody nose. I heard Sam snort before stepping back in front of me and grabbing Dean's arm. "I'll talk to you in the morning, ok?" he said as he dragged Dean away from my room. "Don't disappear on me Y/n."

I nodded and closed the door, slipping on the latch just in case Dean tried to come back. Not that he would, of course. But it made me feel a little better. I slumped onto the sofa. Seeing him standing there, I knew for sure I still loved him. And I knew I had a decision to make. If I stay and work the case with them both or leave and let them handle the case by themselves. My head told me to run. To run as far away as possible. He had hurt me beyond repair and seeing him only exacerbated my feelings. I didn't know if I could work the case with them when I still loved him. For him to see me weak and broken because of him, I didn't want to give him more reasons to mess with my head.

But my heart, my broken, poorly stitched together heart told me to stay. To work with them and finish the case.

I sighed, already knowing my answer. I needed to confront the pain of what he did head on otherwise it would haunt me forever.

Standing, I rummaged through my bag for my pyjamas, stripping out of my suit and throwing it over the back of the sofa. I'd have a shower in the morning, I thought climbing into bed and pulling the covers up. I was exhausted, the events of the day catching up to me. My eyes closed and I gave into sleep, trying not to think of what tomorrow would bring.

-----------------------------------------------------------

So much for a good nights sleep, I thought as I lay on my bed staring up at the ceiling. I'd had maybe two to three hours, waking after having re-lived that day at the bunker in my nightmares. And I'd been unable to fall asleep again after that.

Picking up my phone from the bedside table, I checked the time; 5:18am. I sighed and sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I suppose I better shower, I've got a long day ahead of me. I plodded over to the bathroom and turned on the shower before looking at myself in the mirror. I looked awful. My eyes were puffy from crying and from the lack of sleep, my skin was pale and lacklustre. I could easily have passed as a zombie extra for The Walking Dead.

Stripping out of my pyjamas, I stepped under the hot water, relishing the feel of the water beating down against my body before grabbing my shampoo and giving my hair a good wash.

What was that song? 'I'm going to wash that man right outta my hair and send him on his way'.

Pity I couldn't do that in real life.

I finished up in the shower and walked back into the room wrapped in a towel. I pulled out a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt. I knew at some point today I'd have to go and see the Sheriff but I'd be damned if I was going to be in that uncomfortable suit the whole day.

I was still humming the song as I dried my hair, just about hearing the knock on the door. Walking over, I peeped a look and saw Sam in his running gear waiting patiently for me to open the door.

He flashed me his dimpled smile and went to hug me, frowning when I took a step back. "Ew, Sam. You're sweaty and smelly and I've just had a shower."

Looking slightly offended, he smelt his armpit, turning his head away in disgust at the smell. "Sorry."

We sat down at the table and I picked up my hair brush, fiddling with it in my hands. "So..."

"So..."

"How's his nose?" I asked grimacing. "I didn't break it, did I?"

Sam let out a laugh. "No, not broken. Although his ego took a hit."

I shook my head, smiling at him. "Damn, I'll have to remember to hit him harder next time."

His smile dropped a little. He looked uncomfortable, not knowing how I would react to his next question.

I let out a long sigh. "I know what you're going to say Sam. Or ask even. I thought about it a lot last night."

He raised his eyebrows. "And have you decided? You know I'd love to work this case with you..."

"I know Sammy," I said quietly. "I...I...I'm not going to say it's not hard. But I've got to face this head on, I'm sick of feeling weak because of what he did. I'm not going to be a coward and run away this time, so I'll work the case with you both. But on one condition,"

"Ok,"

I looked at him. "We concentrate on the case, that's all. I don't want to talk about anything else."

He nodded. "I can work with that, and I'll make sure Dean keeps it strictly business."

Fiddling with my hair brush again, I looked down. "Did he...did he say anything to you?"

He was quiet for a minute. "Would you believe me if I told you?"

I shrugged. "Probably not. His words...what he said to me? I hear them every night Sam. And every night, my heart breaks a little bit more. Is it stupid that I still love him?"

Sam reached over and grabbed my hands. "Feelings are never stupid Y/n. They just make us feel stupid sometimes."

Nodding, I looked up at him. "Well then, I feel really stupid." Sighing, I reached up and rubbed my temples. "Ok, let's get the ball rolling. I'll come to you in 20 minutes? Give you time to shower and me to psyche myself up to being in the same room as Dean again."

"Are you absolutely sure about this Y/n?" he asked, concerned about how this was going to play out.

"No. But I've been here for a few days, I know more about the case than the two of you, plus it will save us some time. I just need to suck it up and concentrate on the case."

He stood up and walked over to the door. "20 minutes?"

Smiling, I nodded. "20 minutes."

@lauraashley93 @luvlady-writes @strngtsblog @superflannel @mvrylee @awesomeness1679

[lauraashley93]

Unrequited

The most terrible loneliness is in loving someone completely, deeply, and without reserve; and knowing that you are not loved that way in return.

A/N - Feedback is always welcome, let me know what you think!

Characters - Sam, Dean, Y/n

Chapter Thirteen

"How have you been?"

I shook my head. "I...I...I don't think...I can't do this Sam. Seeing you...it hurts..."

He nodded. "It's ok. Whenever you're ready, you know you can talk to me. How about we talk about the case?"

Looking up at him, I smiled and nodded. "Thank you." Letting out a long sigh, I stood up and grabbed the folder off the table and passed it to Sam. "I've been here for a few days now. First two victims had a major run of bad luck in the days leading up to their deaths, which were both classed as 'accidental'. But I think it's more than that. First victim was Mr Harvey Park. Married with two kids. He drove under the influence then under a truck. He was pretty mangled. And I mean mangled, like the top half of his body a bloody pile of mush. Second victim was Mr Benjamin Clarke. He was shot in the face with a shotgun in a botched robbery. Suspect claims the gun just 'went off'. And the vic from today, well, all I got was that he took a nose dive after getting his feet tangled in his cleaner's vacuum wire."

Sam flicked through the file nodding. "Yeah, that was pretty much what the Sheriff told us. Did you find any hex bags at the other crime scenes?"

I huffed. "Nope. I thought witches too, checked and double checked their homes, cars, work - everywhere I could think of but zilch. Plus I couldn't find any connection between the victims other than they all come from money and are members of the local country club." I flopped onto the sofa and sighed. "It's frustrating me. I haven't been able to talk to the first vics wife as she's been away but she is due back today. The second vic's wife wasn't all that co-operative, she didn't want to talk. My plan was to speak to the first wife then check out the other two." I shook my head and leaned back onto the sofa. "I'm stumped. The Sheriff was going to look into whether or not the victim from today had the same run of bad luck as the others. He did know that his house was in foreclosure so I'm assuming he did."

Sam frowned. "Hmm," he passed me a couple of pictures of each of the victim's possessions they had with them when they died. "Notice anything similar in each photo?"

I squinted and scanned each photo. "The only thing I see is that they have the same book?"

"It's not much but its something. It looks familiar to me, 'The Heart is a Rolling Stone'. I'm sure I've heard the name before..." He looked at me. "Dean is going to want to know where I got this information from Y/n. I know you don't want to talk about it, and I hate that I'm suggesting this but..."

I knew what he was going to say. That we tell him I'm here, that we work the case together like old times. But I couldn't...

"Isn't Stacey with you?" I asked, changing the subject.

He pursed his lips, knowing exactly what I was doing. "She's on a hunt of her own. Salt and burn not too far away. She's going to join us if we're still here when she's finished."

"How is she? Is she..."

"She's good. And yeah, she is." He put the file back on the table. "She's been helping me try and find you, in between giving Dean shit for what he did."

I was a little surprised at that seen as I wasn't exactly the nicest person towards her. "But I was a total bitch to her. Why would she help you look for me?"

Sam laughed softly. "Yeah you were. But she knows how much I missed you, that despite what Sean may have said to you and the way he acts now, he's missing you too."

I turned away, blinking back fresh tears. "Sam, please,"

He reached over and touched my arm. "I know he's hurt you. But he is miserable without you. He won't admit it, but I know my brother Y/n. He knows he made a huge mistake letting you go."

He didn't just hurt me Sam, he broke my heart. He broke me. For two years he used me, played some kind of sick game to keep himself entertained. I meant nothing to him, he said so himself."

"And you know deep down that that's not true. He was trying to protect you in his own stupid way."

"Protect me?" I shouted, my emotions getting the better of me. "Protect me from what Sam? I asked him, I asked him if he was doing some stupid macho shit! I god damn asked him! And he still told me to leave. He never loved me Sam."

"You're wrong. I'm not saying what he did was right, god no, what he did was unbelievably stupid. He knew it and he knows it now."

"And yet he still went ahead, knowing exactly what he was doing." I turned away from Sam and looked down at my hands. "I had to sleep in stolen cars for 3 months because I couldn't even afford to stay in even the cheapest, roach-infested motels. Gas station bathrooms were where I had to wash myself. All the while still hunting, trying to forget the last two years of my life. But I never could. I could never stop myself from loving him even after everything he said to me." I stood up and walked to the door. "I think you need to leave. It was nice seeing you Sam but now I need to disappear again. Take the file, the case is yours."

He stood up but didn't move. "Y/n, please...just..."

"No Sam. You didn't see his face. You didn't hear how cold he was towards me, how emotionless he was. And how easy it was for him to throw me aside like I was nothing. Because that's all I am to him...nothing."

Sam walked over to me and looked down. He was too frigging tall. "You're right, I didn't see or hear what happened between the two of you. But I can tell you what I've seen for the past 8 months. Regret, misery, sorrow. There's an emptiness inside him Y/n, he thinks I can't see it but I can. He tries to mask it with humour, anger, drinking. But I see him. I hear him calling out your name in his sleep."

"Then why did he do it?!" I yelled, my hands clenching into fists. "Why did he throw me away like I was a piece of trash!"

"Because he thinks he's poison," Sam said quietly. "He thinks he's worthless, that everything and everyone dies because of him. He didn't want you to get hurt because of him."

"Bullshit. I'm sorry Sam, but not wanting me to get hurt? So, all the times I was actually hurt while hunting during those two years I was with you any different? How many times did he stitch me up? And then, all of a sudden, he doesn't want me to get hurt? No, I'm sorry but I don't buy it." I opened the door. "I'm sorry Sam..."

I was not expecting to see him standing there, his hand raised about to knock on my door. I was not expecting to hear my name fall from his lips as we stared at each other.

"Y/n..."

@lauraashley93 @strngtsblog @luvlady-writes @superflannel @mvrylee @awesomeness1679

[lauraashley93]

Unrequited

The most terrible loneliness is in loving someone completely, deeply, and without reserve; and knowing that you are not loved that way in return.

A/N - Ok, so, this version of the story is the one I ultimately went with. This chapter will be the start of the alternative ending as well, so when I post that version it will start from chapter twelve.

Feedback is always welcome, so let me know what you think!

Characters - Dean, Sam, Y/n

Chapter Twelve

8 Months Later

I rested my head against the back of the motel room's sofa and sighed. I was getting tired of moving from one motel to another.

Since being kicked out of the bunker, I'd been bouncing from town to town hunting, trying to keep my mind off a certain hunter. And failing miserably.

For the first 3 months, I'd had to sleep in whatever car I'd managed to steal that day to keep the small amount of cash I made from conning drunk men, for food and essentials. It had been hard. It was still hard. Once I got back into the swing of things, swindling larger amounts of cash out of drunks became easier. It had been a real struggle going from living in the bunker and thinking of it as my home, to being homeless in the space of a day.

I tried to keep off the radar as much as possible, never staying in one place for too long and using burner phones whenever I could. Keeping myself to myself, I'd managed to avoid any other hunters since leaving, purely because I didn't want them to report back to the Winchester's, especially Sam as I knew Dean wouldn't be looking for me seen as he was the one who wanted me to leave. Wishful thinking on my part to even think that he thought about me anymore.

It still hurt. A lot. And I still loved him, I think I always would. But what he had said, what he did; I would never forget. Tears filled my eyes and I wiped them away angrily, refusing to let the memory of the man I loved distract me from doing my job.

This case was frustrating. I had two bodies, both victims having had the worst luck of their life in the space of a week before being found dead. The first victim had been fired from his job, he had found out his wife was having an affair with his best friend and then his mother died unexpectantly. All this in a week, and then to top it off, he had drove under the influence right into the back of a long haul truck. There hadn't been much of a body to look at, he had been pretty mangled. It wasn't a pleasant crime scene, I'll tell you that.

The second victim's bad luck had started with his beloved dog died after being hit by a car chasing the family cat. His wife and kids had left him and his sports car had been stolen, before taking a shotgun blast to the face in a botched robbery gone wrong.

At first I'd thought it could be witches but after an extensive search of their homes, jobs and everywhere I could think of, I had found no hex bags or anything else out of the ordinary. There was nothing that I could see that connected the victims to each other, apart from the fact they both had money.

I groaned out loud and pressed my fingers against my temples. This case was giving me a migraine.

My cell phone rang and I picked it up off the table. "Agent Nicks,"

"Agent, we've got another one for you."

I sighed. "On my way."

It took me 15 minutes to drive to the crime scene, parking beside the crime scene van. Taking a deep breath, I climbed out of my car and straightened my skirt before flashing my badge and ducking under the crime scene tape.

"What've we got now Sheriff?" I asked, walking over to him, noticing the body on the floor in front of us.

He flipped through his notes. "Mr Daniel Clarke. Took a nose dive from the top floor landing. Feet apparently tangled in the cleaner's vacuum wire."

"Same run of bad luck as the other two?" I asked as I slowly walked around the body, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing I could see so far.

"I still don't understand why a couple of accidental deaths warrant the FBI to investigate." The Sheriff said shaking his head. "But as far as I know, his house is in foreclosure and about to be auctioned off. If we find anything else, I'll let you know."

"I only go where I'm told to go Sheriff. Thanks..."

I froze at the sound of a car pulling up to the scene. The sound was familiar to me...the low grumbling sound of the...my eyes widened and I inhaled sharply. No, no, no...it can't be...

The unmistakeable sound of the Impala.

Sam and Dean were here.

I quickly thanked the Sheriff, asking him to send the files to my motel room and that my fellow agents were going to take over for the day. Keeping my head down, I walked away quickly, hiding behind one of the patrol cars and praying they didn't see me. I watched as they walked past me towards the Sheriff and I let out the breath I was holding, walking quickly to my car when I noticed Sam had stopped walking and was turning in my direction. Shit, shit, shit.

"Y/n?"

Fuck. I ignored him and practically ran to my car, fumbling with my keys as I tried to unlock the god damn door. Just as I was about to climb in and get the hell out of there, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Y/n."

I turned slowly. "Please Sam. Let me go before he sees me." I begged, tears falling down my face, ruining my makeup.

His hand squeezed my shoulder. "Can I see you later? Please Y/n?"

"Do not tell him I'm here Sam, I'm begging you. I'm staying at the local motel, room 214."

He nodded. "We're at the same motel. I won't say anything to Dean. I'll speak to you later, yeah?"

Of course they were at the same motel. I nodded and climbed into my car, speeding away from the crime scene and straight to the motel.

Flinging the door open, I slid to the floor, the tears I'd kept back for 8 months finally falling. 8 long months of not letting myself break down, of not letting him break me. My body shook with the force of my sobs, and I hugged my knees to my chest as I rocked forward.

This can't be happening, I thought, they can't be here. I've always been careful not to choose the kind of cases they would typically take. I didn't think this one would even be on their radar.

Pulling myself off the ground, I walked to the bathroom and splashed my face with cold water. I looked in the mirror. My face was red and splotchy, my eyes bloodshot from crying. I looked a mess. Sighing, I walked back into the room and shrugged off my jacket, throwing it on the back of the sofa, then sat on the end of the bed, resting my head in my hands. I couldn't stay here, not now. They were here for the case, so I'm not needed anymore. I'll talk to Sam then leave. They can finish this case. I knew I was being a coward, that I should face Dean and tell him exactly what he did to me. But what was the point? If he didn't care then, he sure as hell didn't care now.

Maybe I should pack and leave now before Sam comes knocking. Then I won't have to pretend I'm fine and go back to staying in dingy motel after dingy motel, refusing to deal with my obvious heartache.

Maybe if I laid low for a while, camp out in the woods for a few months, live completely off the radar. I'd have to forgo daily showers and the use of a proper toilet, no human contact what so ever and no telling what kind of monsters could be sharing the woods with me...yep. I'd rather deal with monsters and sleep in a dirty, disgusting tent in the deep, dark woods than have to admit that Dean Winchester had completely broke my soul.

I started to grab my things, stopping when I realised that if I was going to Bear Grylls it, then I couldn't bring a lot of unnecessary stuff I had with me. I'd have no need for FBI suits, a laptop, cell phone, lacy frilly white knickers...

A sharp knock on the door made me jump and pulled me from my thoughts. My heart started to pound in my chest when I realised it must be Sam. Deep breath in, exhale. Deep breath in, exhale. I walked to the door and peeked through the spyhole. Sam.

Do not cry, do not cry, do not cry, I thought to myself over and over as I opened the door. He looked exactly the same as when I left. Still too damn tall, his hair a little longer, his hazel eyes bright and his face soft with concern.

"Y/n, I..."

That was it. That was all it took, for him to say my name. To hear his voice after 8 months of being alone, so lonely, so tired and broken that I immediately broke down. He pulled me into him, squeezing me tight like he needed to give me 8 months worth of hugs. And I needed them. Boy, did I need them.

We stood there together, clinging onto each other as I sobbed into his shirt, his fingers running through my hair to try and soother me. I didn't realise until this moment just how much I had missed this giant moose of a man.

I pulled back slightly and sniffed. "I've snotted all over your shirt," I said quietly, trying to wipe away my tears.

"It's ok. I didn't like this shirt anyway," he said, smiling down at me, his eyes soft.

We walked over to the sofa and sat down next to each other. He held my hands and looked at me. "I've missed you Y/n."

I looked down at our hands, thinking back to when I had wished for this moment, for him to hold me like this. How times change. I smiled softly at the memory. "I've missed you too."

@lauraashley93 @strngtsblog @mvrylee @awesomeness1679

[lauraashley93]

So, I was thinking a Kozik x female reader. Where she is driven back to the clubhouse by Unser, after he arrested a group of thugs who jumped her (but got more than they bargained for), and Kozik offers to patch her up, and it leads to some fluff to start off with, as a vague confession happens, but then might elevate to smut because she needs to take her shirt off so he can examine more of her wounds?

Patch you up

Pairing || Kozik x reader

A/N || This is my first Kozik fic, so please go easy on me lol. Also I didn’t include the smut part, as I wasn’t quite feeling it. Still hope you enjoy it 🤗

Warnings || A whole lotta fluff, some language

The second you stepped out of Unser’s car you were met with a loud voice calling out for you—a voice you recognize all too well. In any other circumstance you would have loved to be greeted by him, but right now, as you’re covered in bruises and dried up blood, you wished you could just vanish out of embarrassment.

Of course, there’s nothing embarrassing about getting assaulted by a group of wannabe gangsters, and you have no doubt they’ll be getting what they deserve, but none of that helped with how vulnerable you felt.

“Hey!” Kozik practically yelled, concern written all over his face. Once he finally reaches you, you’re immediately wrapped in his embrace, and you can finally let out that breath you didn’t even know you were holding this whole entire time. “I heard what happened, are you alright?”

His hands find their way to the sides of your face, presenting him with a sight that makes his blood boil. You shoot him a reassuring smile, before grabbing both of his wrists, “I’m fine, dummy. It looks worse than it is, I promise.”

There was not a bone in his body that would believe a word of that, but he knew better than to hit you with a million questions while you were in such a state. So instead of pressuring you into telling him the exact details, he decided to make you feel more comfortable.

“Let’s get you inside and patch you up, huh?” He tells you, not waiting for you to agree as he pulls you towards the clubhouse and into his dorm where he places you on his bed and grabs his emergency kit.

“You should probably take that off,” He gestures at your stained shirt, while scratching the back of his head nervously. “Or you could just hold it up, that would work too. It’s just that it would be easier if, you know-“

You can’t help but chuckle as he’s fumbling with his words, trying his best not to make you uncomfortable in any way— something you’ve always adored about him.

“Is that usually how you ask girls to take off their clothes, because I have to admit, it’s not very convincing” You ask him, while grabbing the hem of your shirt.

You struggle to take it off without wincing the entire time, but once it’s finally off you are able to see the damage. A large bruise could be seen around your ribs, along with multiple little cuts from all the blows you received.

“Well,” he grins, walking over to you, “I usually don’t have to ask them to take it off”

All you do is roll your eyes and give him your sarcastic laugh, trying to keep that unexpected wave of jealousy from hitting you too hard. Now wasn’t the time to let your feelings for him get the best of you.

Kozik’s gaze falls on your upper body, but before you can catch him staring, he’s kneeling down in front of you. It wasn’t just him, though. Seeing him positioned right in between your legs—it had a way of making you forget about why you were here in the first place.

“Did you atleast get one of them good?” He asked, filling the silence between the two of you, his hands busy cleaning up your wounds.

“One quick jab to the stomach and another one in the throat, just like you taught me” you wink, throwing some fake punches his way.

“That’s my girl.” He grinned, while continuing to patch you up. His words manage to catch you off guard completely, and judging by the newfound expression on his face, he’d realized it as well.

“Careful now, don’t want to let Cassie hear those words, do we now?”

You immediately cringe when the memory from last week floats back to the surface of your brain. A blonde crow eater coming up to you and demanding you stay away from ‘her man’.

Kozik shakes his head, before looking up at you and raising an eyebrow. “Jesus Christ, what happened?” He questions you, already done with this bullshit.

“Not much. Just your girlfriend telling me that I need to take a step back, something about me stealing her man”

“First of all, Cassie is not my girl. I gave her a ride home once after her own ride bailed, and she hasn’t stopped stalking me since” he explained, and you can’t help but be a bit confused.

“Then what was that whole fuss about yesterday, with Tig saying he’s proud of you for finally growing some balls and getting yourself a girl?”

“You heard that, huh?” He clears his throat, “Well, long story short, it had to do with me asking someone out, which I probably shouldn’t have told that dick”

“And did she say yes?” You ask, sounding as nonchalantly as possible.

“I haven’t had the chance to ask her, yet. I was planning on doing so today, but some lowlife douchebags came and pretty much ruined the plan”

Your eyes shot back to his, your eyebrows furrowed deeply. Did he mean who you think he means, or was this your own imagination playing tricks on you?

“So now, instead of showing up at her doorstep with her favorite flowers and take out from that restaurant she never stops talking about—I’m putting bandages on her cuts and wiping off dried blood”

A warm sensation creeps up your face, and you could barely believe your own ears. He really did feel the same way about you and you didn’t even realize it because of some other woman's nonsense.

“I’m sorry that me getting jumped was so inconvenient for you,” you tell him, just wanting to see him panic one more time.

“Wait, no. That’s not what I meant, seriously. It turns out I just really suck at confessing my feelings, which you’ve probably noticed by now. I swear I didn’t-“

You burst out laughing and grab the back of his head, pulling him in for an unexpected kiss. The second his lips touched yours, it felt as if time was standing still and nothing else mattered, except for the two of you.

It takes Kozik a second to comprehend what just happened, but once he’s brought back to earth, he deepens the kiss even more. His mouth works against yours with urgency, lust even, his hands caressing your waist carefully.

The intimate moment is cut short by a loud knock on the door, leaving both of you breathless and slightly agitated by someone interrupting your first kiss. The agitation amplifies by a million when you hear the most annoying voice on the other side of the door.

“Kozik, it’s Cassie. Can we please talk about last night? I need you to give me a chance, plea-“

“Sorry sweetheart, he’s a little preoccupied.”

A soft gasp fell from Cassie’s lips, and it wasn’t long before you could hear her cheap boots stomp away. Loud laughter erupts inside the room, and you watch as Kozik leans his forehead on your thighs.

“Does this mean you’ll go out with me? I mean, it’s only fair considering you scared away my plan b” he laughs, looking back up again.

You reach out to playfully smack his chest, causing a large smile to form on his face, one that managed to give you absolute butterflies.

“I mean, it’s really hard to say no when you’re kneeling down between my thighs”

“I could change that”

“I really hoped you wouldn’t.”

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